Remember Me
by lookitsria
Summary: Based on the combination of the Latin obliviscor, meaning "forget," and the Aramaic ע ב ד א כ  ד בר א, avda kedavra, meaning "what was said has been done," Oblivi Kedavra has the meaning "forget what has been done."
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_April 2000_

He could feel the dementors approaching, as they did on a daily basis. The air around him grew colder, icy, and his brain was telling him to be mournful. Draco would always be happy, however, and he knew so deep down in his blackened heart. The actions that landed him in Azkaban would forever hold a warm spot in his soul. That memory would never leave him, not like the other, although few, happy times he had had in his brief 20 years of life. Every time he had gotten that scum, Potter, in trouble. Every crack he had taken at Weasley. Every time he had called Granger a mudblood and seen the look of utter shock and horror on her face. All these memories were washed away, swallowed by the unhappy aftereffects of each event, as the dementors tried to drain him of all the happiness he had ever felt, to get him to a point where he'd be lost forever and they could finally take him. All except the event that earned his one way ticket to Azkaban. The satisfaction that his hand-crafted spell was a success and at least one, if not two, of the people he despised most in this world would suffer until the end of their time was enough to keep him alive and jubilant. He might not have reached his entire desired effect that night, but the outcome was acceptable enough to allow him to continue onward. True, the effects of being surrounded by dementors at all times showed in his physical appearance as much as his mental state of mind, but as long as he knew that they were suffering, he'd be ok. As long as he was ok, they'd continue to suffer. It was a vicious cycle that created a warm fuzzy feeling inside Draco's chest whenever he took the time to think about it, which was often.

As he sat slouched against the wall of his cell, he turned his head toward the door as it creakily slid open, something only a dementor had the ability to do. He expected to see one of the foul creatures on the other side, but the sight of a human greeted him instead. As a smirk grew on his lips, he rose to his bare feet, taking a few slow steps towards the petite figure before him. He could sense she was terrified to be there, she was practically shaking and it wasn't from the frosty atmosphere of the wizard prison. With his chin tilted down, his sunken eyes looked more dangerous than ever, his once pure white hair now a dirty disheveled mess that added to his sketchy demeanor. "Fancy seeing you here, am I getting a cellmate?" he teased. He saw her physically shiver before she recovered quickly, no doubt not wanting him to see how disturbed she was by him.

"In your dreams, Malfoy," came Hermione's shaky voice as she took one step into his cell and the dementors that escorted her there closed the door behind her. No one except for the Minister himself knew she was there. She had requested this special meeting as an attempt to reverse the damage that Draco had done. She had her wand, while Draco, now a prisoner, had none, and this time she was confident she was safe alone with him. She had the advantage should he have another outburst. She cast her patronus, a silvery otter which swam around her and her own appearance instantly warmed. She was hoping she wouldn't have to use her wand against Draco, but raised it at him and sent her patronus charging at him when he made a jerking movement towards her. His laugh filled the cell and echoed down the dark, damp, and dreary hall as he fell to the floor again and raised his hands up in surrender. She took in a deep breath, her free hand gripping the ball in her pocket that was still a deep crimson red, reminding herself that she had faced worse that the pathetic coward before her.

"Easy there, Granger," he said with another laugh, slowly bringing himself to a standing position again, leering at her, barely blinking. He raised his hands in defense, reminding her that he had no wand.

"Step back," she commanded and he did so after a moment, lowering his hands. "I'm here for one reason and one reason only. You will answer my questions or," she paused, swallowing hard. Even though hatred for him coursed through her and seemingly spewed from her, the thought of death via a dementor still sent a chill down her spine. "Or you'll finally get your last kiss."

"As if you have the authority to bring about such drastic events," he scoffed, still cocky as ever given his current circumstances. He crossed his arms over his chest. If it had been a year earlier and he were still in his Malfoy finest suit and his hair perfectly manicured, he'd had seemed to be someone to be afraid of. No, as Hermione told herself, with his dirty prisoners frock, his unshaven and dirty face just made him look… crazy. "Where have you manners gone to, Granger? Not even asking a dear old friend like me how I'm doing before getting down to business? I've seen better days," he answered her unasked question.

"You'd be surprised by the authority a war hero has," she spoke more confidently this time. "Not just anyone can come for a visit to Azkaban, Draco, you know that. Yet here I am."

"Indeed, here you are. Curious, very curious indeed. Tell me, Granger, did your buddy Potter pull a few strings? Or maybe that lovely Weasley bloke?" The confused look that flashed across her face was enough to tell him that she was still under his spell and he relished in this fact. Her patronus disappeared as her mind became fuzzy.

She quickly shook the confusion from her head, not backing down, trying desperately to remain strong. This might be her only chance. She cast her patronus again and it took a lap around the cell before returning to hover around her. "Tell me why. Why did you do it?" she commanded of him again, not lowering her wand though her hand was shaking. "We saved your life, more than once, and yet you still held such a strong grudge that you plotted such a horrible revenge. Even when you knew there was no escape and you'd end up here forever, you still went through with it. Hadn't the war taught you anything?"

With little else to remember other than the events of his triumphant day and those leading up to it, Draco couldn't really answer her question. The truth was, he couldn't remember why he had done it any longer, he just remembered what it was he had done. He remembered the plotting, the joy it brought him, and the execution. The months he had spent in Azkaban made him think of little else, it was if his final spell had partially rebounded onto himself. While Hermione couldn't remember a specific aspect of her life, he could only remember one. "Does why really matter when the how was so calculated?" he answered, not wanting her to find out his fault of non-remembrance. "Let's discuss the how."

"Let's not."

"Oh I think we will, or we won't be speaking at all. And according to you, if we don't speak those tricky dementors will finally get the best of me," he countered, calling her bluff on her earlier threat. He could tell she was hungry for information and he was thirsting to relive his greatest accomplishment. "Now, shall we start at the beginning or retell the end and work backwards? You know the end is my favorite part, I believe I'd like to start there." He once again took a seat on the dirty floor of his cell, keeping his eyes on her in case she'd react negatively to his retelling. "Oh yes, the part I like best starts with two simple words." He smirked, both sensing and seeing the fear on her face. He could care less if her wand was pointed straight at his head, he was in his glory. Folding his legs in towards his body, he raised his own hand as if he had a wand himself, pointing his finger instead. He cocked his head to the side and held his silent pause for a few beats. "_Oblivi Kedavra_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading! In case anyone was wondering, this is a Hermione/Ron fic. Chapter 1 was set in 2000 and Chapter 2 brings us back to 1999. Each chapter will have a date so it's easier to follow as time passes. Please keep reading and reviewing-I really appreciate it!**

**Chapter 2**

_July 1999_

Hermione let herself into her London flat for the first time, setting down Crookshank's cage at her feet as the cat mewed from within, wanting his freedom. It had been a week since she'd been released from the hospital for wizards, St. Mungos, being held for observation, questioning, and several attempts at recovery spells for an entire month. The one month felt like a lifetime and she was happy to finally have some room to breathe. Finally it was decided that the curse she had been hit with was so unique and so strong, that there was no immediate remedy or counter for it and that she should try to live her life as normally as possible. At first, her parents, already having been situated back in England for months after the spell Hermione had cast on them to erase her from their memory and send them to Australia to ensure their safety during the last wizard war that she was so heavily involved in had been lifted, had insisted that she take up her old bedroom and stay with them. She'd had offers from her best girlfriend's family to stay with them, as well as an offer to stay with Harry at Grimmauld Place. After careful consideration, however, she decided that being on her own was best. Besides, there was always time in the day for visits with friends, and they'd be sure to run into each other at work at the Ministry, right?

In actuality, this was her only option for a bit of sanity. So much had happened recently, it was like she and Harry were hunting for Horcruxes all over again. The emotions she was feeling, the aftereffects of the curse she had been attacked with, frustrated her more than she could make anyone understand. She stood in the middle of the disheveled living room and closed her eyes, trying desperately to remember what had happened but it was all a blur. A struggle, a flash of light, a scream, perhaps her own, and then darkness. The next clear thought was waking up in a hospital bed, Harry on one side and a stranger on the other, holding her hand. "You're awake! Thank Merlin you're awake!" the stranger exclaimed. "I was so worried," he spoke softly, almost intimately, to her as he reached forward to touch her cheek with his free hand.

She pulled her hand away and backed away from him rather sharply, looking to Harry, her best friend, for some sort of answer as to who this stranger was and why he was touching her. When Harry merely looked awkwardly back at her, she took matters into her own hands. "Who… who are you?" she croaked out, her throat dry from being unconscious for so long.

The stranger smiled playfully back at her. "Just woken up and already playing games. I have to admit, Hermione, it's not like you at all." He reached up to run his hand over her hair and she jerked away again in a panic. Harry rushed to her side now, trying to comfort his friend and take control of the situation, as he had grown accustomed to.

"Hermione, what's gotten into you, this is Ron. Your boyfriend. Ring any bells?" he chuckled, though his laugh was laced with nervousness.

"No, I don't," came her response after a pause, like a little girl who'd just awoken from a nightmare. She was clinging to Harry's arm for protection, the only thing familiar in the room at the moment.

"You're kidding right? Is this have a go at Ron day? Did I miss the owl?" came Ron's exasperated voice as he stood from his seat at Hermione's bedside. "Well it's not bloody funny anymore. I think we've all had enough scares in our lifetime to not play such games." A blush was creeping up into Ron's cheeks as he worked himself up into a tizzy.

"Ron, just go and fetch the doctor, would you?" Harry told his friend.

"But…"

"Just go," came Harry's raised voice as his calmness staggered.

Hermione had turned her face to hide it against Harry's arm, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and praying that this was just some horrible nightmare or the aftereffects of one too many butterbeers.

"Fine," Ron answered weakly, his eyes on Hermione as he backed out of the room, turning in the doorway before rushing down the hall.

"Hermione," Harry said softly, his hands moving to her arms to turn her towards him. "Tell me the truth, are you having a go or what?"

Hermione shook her head slowly as tears flooded her eyes, a few falling onto her cheeks as she looked up into Harry's face. "I… I have no idea who that man is," she sputtered.

Harry's brow creased and before he could stop it, questions were spilling from his lips, asking her to recall vital events in which Ron was a part of. Fighting a mountain troll in the girls loo their first year, their life-size version of wizard's chess, her first brew of Polyjuice Potion, her first trip to Hogsmeade, her reaction when Ron had dated Lavender Brown, their countless trips to the Burrow, their search for Horcruxes, how she and Ron had ventured back into the Chamber of Secrets to gather Basilisk fangs, their first kiss in the midst of the great battle. Hermione listened with fear in her eyes, recalling each event yet with the absence of this fellow called Ron. Not only was he not part of her memories as an active participant, but as far as she was concerned, he'd never been at Hogwarts with them for the six years they attended. Her memories were so fuzzy, it was making her dizzy and the doctor needn't force her to lay back down when he rushed in to examine her. Ron lingered back in the doorway, only tearing his eyes from Hermione to look at his best mate. Harry shook his head slowly, confirming Ron's fears that she hadn't been fooling around and that whatever curse she was under had made her completely forget him.

Hermione shook her head violently, bringing herself back to the present. Crookshanks mewed violently from his cage, wanting to get out and explore. Hermione bent down to do so and then looked at the boxes containing her possessions and went to work on putting things in their place. She had agreed to meet Harry and Ginny for dinner that evening but wanted to get things unpacked before she needed to begin getting ready. Closing the shades as to block the view into the room from the streets of muggle London outside, she went to work with her wand, moving things about the room and magically setting them in their place. Within a few minutes, she had all of her books put away on a bookshelf, not an easy task to complete, even with a wand, and all of her clothes were neatly folded in drawers or hanging in the closet. Her new bed was made, the sheets crisply folded, and a few posters and paintings fixed to the walls. She'd attempt to tidy the kitchen later that night if she wasn't too tired after dinner.

Checking her watch, she went about getting ready and was soon waiting outside of their selected restaurant. Early, as usual. She bided her time people watching when she spotted Harry and Ginny turn from an alleyway they no doubt apparated into. A smile crossed her face as they walked towards her and she raised an eyebrow at a figure trailing behind them. Were they being followed?

When Harry and Ginny spotted her, their faces brightened and they greeted her with warm hugs and words of welcome. The stranger who had been following them seemed to not be following them at all, but accompanying them. "Hello," Hermione greeted him, extending her hand for a polite handshake. "And you might be?" As her eyes met the strangers, she could have sworn she had seen him somewhere before. Her mind got a bit fuzzy and the feeling of remembrance passed rather quickly as soon as she looked away.

The strangers eyes seemed to suddenly fill with sadness as he took her hand in his and shook it, holding her gaze for as long as she'd allow. "Ron. Ginny's brother."

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at Ginny, her longtime friend. She knew she had many brothers but she couldn't for the life of her recall a 'Ron.' Her eyes floated again to Harry who gave her a sympathetic look. He took a step closer, shielding her like a protective brother from the throng of people passing on the London street. "Draco's curse, remember?" he whispered and she was suddenly filled with the knowledge that this was the person whom the curse made her completely forget. This news was an everyday occurrence during her stay at St. Mungos. It had been so difficult at first to be hit with such news, usually as soon as she woke up. The repetition just made her more and more angry as the days passed. She had eventually asked Harry to stop letting Ron come visit and after her request, his appearances were few and far between.

"Right. I… I'm sorry," she stammered, that anger within her rising slightly for not even recognizing his face. Ron didn't say a word, just moved his gaze to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"We know you don't remember, but he missed you and wanted to see you, so we invited him along," Ginny told her soothingly. "He just wanted to see you."

"It's ok, really," Hermione ensured them, looking back at Ginny's brother and trying, really trying, to at least remember his name, but even that was lost on her for the moment. She hated this feeling of not knowing, hadn't he just said his name a few moments earlier? She usually knew everything, literally, and to forget someone's name which had just been told to her made her extremely uncomfortable.

"Let's just go eat, yeah?" Harry tried to break the uncomfortable silence that fell over them and lead them in the front door. "I bet Ron's starving."

"Famished," Ron muttered, bringing up the rear as they entered the dining establishment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: THANK YOU FOR READING! I appreciate the comments so much so please keep the reviews coming! Hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

**Chapter 3**

_July 1999_

The door closed behind Hermione again as she returned to her apartment after dinner with her friends. Crookshanks trotted over to her, purring as he twisted and turned around her legs, rubbing against her. It had been a decent evening, the conversation mostly focused around Harry and Ginny's lastest trip together to a wizard only beach. Whenever he was addressing their dinner guest, Harry made a point to say Ron's name, for Hermione's sake. She appreciated the sentiment, but the truth was, his name slipped her mind every few minutes. To be honest, she even forgot they were a group of four rather than three a few times throughout the night when conversation had lulled during the meal. Even though she had parted with her friends just outside her front door, and Harry had said Ron's name one last time, she couldn't remember it after the elevator ride up to her flat. This feeling of forgetfulness was consuming her and she was beginning to feel physically ill. Deciding to save the tidying of the kitchen for tomorrow, she retired to bed. She got changed into her pajamas in silence, slipped into her freshly made bed, and drifted off to sleep rather quickly.

An arm around her neck. A struggle. A flash of light, brighter than she'd ever experienced. A scream, was that her voice? Then nothing.

Hermione awoke in a cold sweat, sitting up abruptly in her bed. Where had her dreams just taken her? She could barely remember.

The same dream repeated every night that week, never a detail more and always leaving her in a frazzled state. She was due at the Ministry that Monday to report to her official first day of work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, a position she was supposed to start over a month ago before she had her accident. The night before she was to report for duty, she had the nightmare again, only this time she could hear the distinct laughter of Draco Malfoy. She could still hear it echoing in her ears hours later as she poured herself a cup of coffee, her second that morning.

Deciding she had some time to spare, she brought the cup of coffee to her lips and closed her eyes as she inhaled its scent. Every morning for a month, Harry would bring her her morning coffee before any doctors or admired wizards were allowed to enter and start examining her. They would go over what had happened, why she was there, the spell she was under, and what they would be attempting that day in order to bring her back to normal. Most days in the beginning were full of questions. Hermione found these days the worst because of the frustration of not remembering that overcame her and the persistence of her interrogators. Even with Harry and various other visitors such as Ginny and other members of the Weasley tribe there for support, the days were long and taxing. She'd often get into fights with whosever job it was to bother her that day, questioning their methods and countering the theories with several lifetimes worth of knowledge. Spitting out the facts that swirled in her head would ease her anger at not remembering her own life, especially such an intimate part. She was thankful when they started to attempt alternate methods of treatment, ones that didn't involve her speaking.

She remembered the first day the Aurors came to attempt counter curses on her. She was willing to try anything, but the attempts at the brutal curses hadn't lasted long. One of the Aurors, a young looking fellow with flaming red hair, had insisted they stop after one of the curses had a very painful effect on her and her scream had not only filled the room but echoed in the halls. She related it to being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange at Malfoy Manor and was quite shaken for the next few days. The stranger had made an attempt to comfort her, and for whatever reason seemed quite shaken himself, but she had taken it as just part of his duties for the day. Not feeling well, she didn't have the energy to think much else of it.

A faint pop brought her back to the present and she saw Harry and a familiar yet unrecognizable boy that usually tagged along with him in her living room. She was expecting Harry as an escort on her first day of work, but she wasn't expecting company. "Good morning, Harry," she smiled as she approached them

"Ron and I are your hired protection for the morning," said Harry proudly. He loved his job as an Auror, even the fluffy jobs like escorting his very able best friend to the Ministry of Magic. Hermione couldn't be anything less than proud of Harry for all he'd been through and how well he was doing now. He seemed to be getting along with his fellow co-worker's as well. She looked over at the other man with him, young, like Harry, and that red hair. She'd seen that red hair before.

"Ron," she murmured and his blue eyes lit up. As soon as they locked with hers, it was like her brain clouded and she forgot his name altogether. "Right, so, shall we go?" she spoke as she quickly came out of her haze and reached for her coat which was draped over the couch. The Ministry had changed greatly since the end of the war, including modes of transportation for its workers. Harry had been happy not to have to flush himself down a toilet anymore. With the creation of a few new spells, Aurors were now allowed to apparate directly into the Ministry and also had the ability to transport guests in as well. Harry moved to her right and took her hand once she had her coat on, his co-worker moving to her left. She looked down at their hands when they joined, the feeling altogether too familiar. Not noticing she wasn't focusing, the trio turned on the spot and they were twisting and turning through time and space. A lifetime later, or maybe just a second, they came to a sudden stop in the main hall of the Ministry. Hermione gripped both of their hands for grounding but her head was swimming. That had never happened when she apparated before, she was usually so focused. She felt like she was going to be sick. Her companions saw how pale she was and Harry quickly directed her to a nearby wastebasket while the tall redhead blocked their view, telling onlookers to keep it moving in the most authoritative voice he could muster. Once her stomach was empty and she was thoroughly embarrassed, Harry led her down the hall towards the elevators and up to Auror department to his office, his co-worker in tow. Once in the privacy behind a closed door, Hermione put her head in her hands. "Oh brother," she murmured.

"I don't understand. You've apparated a million times," Harry said, his face a mask of concern.

"I was… distracted," she admitted.

"You're lucky you didn't get splinched," came the voice of Harry's co-worker. Hermione looked up at him angrily.

"This is none of your business, don't you have other duties to attend to?" she quickly fired back. "And what was your name, anyway?" The tall stranger before her stood rigidly, quiet for a moment as if he wanted to say something but was holding back. "If you have something to say, then say it!" she yelled again.

"Fine!" he bellowed and the single word, again, seemed familiar. "I'm so sick of sitting back and being quiet." Harry made an attempt to stop him, but he just kept going. "You were hit with a homemade curse that made you forget the one person in this world who loved you more than he did his own life. A man who has loved you for most of his life and would do anything for you. He made you forget me and every time you look at me and have no idea who I am, a part of me dies like your memories of us. Every time Harry has to say my name so you'll remember it and every time you forget it almost immediately, I'm filled with such… anger. I hate that you don't remember me. I hate that he did this to you. I hate that I was asked to hush up and go along with it until maybe someday you get your memory back." He stopped and took a deep breath, calming himself down some. This outburst had been building for some time now. "I hate when you remember something about me and I can see it in your eyes that you do but within seconds it's gone. That I can't just pull you to me and kiss you. That everything I've ever said or done is like it never happened. No one's stopped to think about how I feel in all of this. I was just pushed aside and told to be silent and still. I don't want to be silent anymore, it hurts too much. Okay? I said it. It hurts."

His eyes were on Hermione, brimming with tears at the confession he had finally let out. Hermione took in what he just said, raised her head and met his eyes. That cloudy feeling overcame her again and she shook her head softly. "I'm sorry… I…" she stammered. "I can't remember your name."

Almost instantly, the tall redhead swung around, his fist meeting, and going through, the wall of the office he shared with Harry. Hermione let out a gasp as Harry called out his co-worker's name. "Ron!" he called again as he followed him out of the office. Hermione stood slowly, approaching the wall, reaching a hand out to touch the hole, her eyes moving over the blood that had spilled from its damagers hand. With a deep breath, she drew her wand, murmured a spell, and the wall was fixed, no sign of ever being damaged.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for the awesome comments! They are seriously inspiring and uplifting! This chapter is a bit short but that just means I'll post the next one sooner rather than later. Enjoy, review, tell your friends! ;)**

**Chapter 4**

_August 1999_

An arm around her neck. A struggle. A flash of light, brighter than she'd ever experienced. A scream, was that her voice? And then a pop.

That was new, she'd never heard that popping sound in this recurring dream before. Or was it a nightmare? She blinked her eyes open, awake as usual after the reverie. She heard rustling from the living room and quickly reached for her wand. The pop must have been real life, not her dream. As her sleepiness left her and she became more aware of where she was, she recognized the popping sound was that of a witch or wizard apparating. Another pop and all was still.

She slowly moved from her bed, entering the living room. "Lumos," she muttered and the tip of her wand lit up, casting a glow around the room. "Homenum revelio." Nothing. She was alone. With another flick of her wand, the lights around the room turned on and her eyes immediately fell on a small package that sat on an end table near the couch. Using her wand, she lifted it into the air, turning it around to examine it. It was small and wrapped not so neatly. She cast a few simple spells to make sure what was inside wasn't harmful before magically removing the wrappings. She turned the box around in her hands before opening it, not wanting to touch it in case it were cursed. These days, she always assumed the worse. Inside sat a remembrall, filled with billowing white smoke that condensed and then cleared as she watched it move around the small clear ball.

Deciding it was ok, she plucked it from its box and it immediately turned the darkest red she'd ever seen. A note fluttered to the ground once the ball wasn't holding it in place and she knelt down to retrieve it. It was a ripped piece of parchment with a scribbled handwriting she swore she'd seen before. 'Please remember me,' read the paper. Hermione closed her eyes, not wanting to cry even though she was alone, but found it hard to bite back the tears. She wanted desperately for all of this to be over, to remember the person she knew she was forgetting. How silly was it that she knew she was forgetting someone and that the someone she couldn't remember had been a huge part of her life? Her eyes snapped opened and she gasped at her own revelation. This was the first time she remembered on her own that it was a person she was forgetting because of the curse that was over her. She looked down at the remembrall in her hand and swore that it lightened just a tiny shade, that a tiny wisp of white smoke had streaked through the crimson red before mixing together. With her hand closed tightly around it, she returned to bed and finished her nights rest.

The next morning, Hermione apparated to Grimmauld Place to use Harry's fireplace which had been wired into the Minestry's floo network shortly after the war. The paperwork to have her own floo linked was taking forever to finish, despite her connections within the Ministry. She had arrived early and went down into the kitchen where Kreacher went about making her breakfast though she tried to insist she wasn't hungry and he needn't do so. She sat at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, her new remembrall on the surface before her. She touched it with the tip of her finger and the smoke near the warmth of her skin began to turn red quickly. She pulled her hand away and watched the smoke turn white again then fade to nothing. She did this several times, letting her finger linger longer each time. Hermione had spent much of the previous day testing out the remembrall, watching the red smoke fill it when touched and fade once left alone. She liked to watch the colors dance together and smiled when they seemed to fight each other for supremacy of their confines, the red always winning the battle. As she watched the colors swim, a tall redhead walked into the kitchen, giving her a double take as he tripped over his own feet. "Oh, hi," he murmured, sliding into a seat across from her, accepting his own cup of coffee that Kreacher immediately brought over. "Thanks Kreacher," he said to the house elf and Hermione noted how unnecessarily kind he was to the poor being.

Hermione took in this stranger's appearance, his broad, strong shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and vibrant red hair. "Hi," she answered cautiously back, her hand moving over the remembrall which instantly filled with smoke that turned red quickly.

"Ron," he said. "My name's Ron. That bloke you can't remember." He said this so casually and sipped his coffee afterward that Hermione was thrown off a bit. She blinked a few times before she could respond.

"Oh," was the only sound she could muster. She was supposed to know who this person was, yet couldn't remember at all. She felt like such a nutter. Thankfully, Harry came in before anyone could say anything else.

"Morning," he said cheerfully, smiling at both his friends. "What do you have there, Hermione?" Harry asked, motioning towards the ball in her hand as he accepted his coffee from Kreacher as Ron had.

"Good morning," Hermione replied and held up the profoundly red ball which Harry immediately identified. "It's a bit odd, really. Someone apparated into my place last night and left this. I think I'm going to put a few protective spells up. I don't know who it was but it kind of freaked me out." She looked at the ball and how red the billowing smoke inside was. "I've never seen one this shade before, not even one of Neville's at school." Hermione swore that the stranger across the table from her, the one who called himself Ron, winced when she mentioned Neville.

"Well it's no surprise it's red," Harry commented. "You've been forced to forget something pretty major." He looked at Ron who just shrugged and looked down at his cup of coffee. "I need to get ready for work, we'll leave soon," Harry added before excusing himself.

Ron looked up at Hermione whose eyes shifted from the remembrall to his face. He stood slowly but bent over the table, leaning in close to her, lowering his voice when he spoke. "Please remember me."

"It was you," she gasped immediately, almost dropping the ball from her fingertips. He merely shrugged again before straightening up and heading out the door Harry had just used. Hermione sat back in her seat with a sigh. "How could I keep forgetting him?" she murmured to herself. She closed her eyes tightly. "Please remember him," she told herself, as if speaking to her brain. "Please."

She opened her eyes and looked down at the remembrall in her hand, lost in thought. As Kreacher pushed a plate of food toward her, she was brought back to the present, forgetting the interaction she had just had with Ron as her mind cleared.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: The reviews make me smile! Thank you for reading! Many have been asking if you'll get to see Ron's POV or that of anyone else. Unfortunately, you won't. The entire story is Hermione's point of view but there's enough interaction, I think, so that you can really see how Ron's feeling. If at any point it gets confusing, please just leave a comment in a review and I'll try to address it. Enjoy the next chapter!**

**Chapter 5**

_August 1999_

"Happy Birthday dear Ginny. Happy Birthday to you!" sang the crowd of friends and family gathered at the Burrow that evening. They had just enjoyed a feast prepared by Mrs. Weasley, who had outdone herself with dinner yet again, let alone the fabulous cake that sat before the birthday girl. It had been a month since Hermione had received that mysterious gift of a remembrall. Its gifter drifted in and out of Hermione's memory. Rummaging in her bag for a small wrapped gift box, Hermione approached her best girlfriend.

"For you, Ginny," Hermione smiled as she took the seat beside her. As Ginny unwrapped the gift, Hermione glanced around the room, catching the eye of a tall redhead standing next to Harry. 'Remember,' she heard a voice in her head echo, but she couldn't. As hard as she tried, she couldn't. He gave a small, almost awkward smile to her and she looked away quickly as a blush crept over her cheeks. She was undoubtedly attracted to him, but attraction could be instant, right? But why was her heart forcing her brain to remember? What was she forgetting?

"I love it!" her friend called from beside her, holding her wrist out to Hermione so she could clasp her new bracelet around it. Hermione did so and then excused herself, again catching the eye of that oddly familiar yet altogether unrecognizable man from before. She drifted into the sitting room and he followed. Perhaps he felt that instant attraction as well. She kept moving to the mantle which was lined with photographs, each one of family and friends, moving magically in their frames. On the far right she spotted one of herself, Harry, and the same redhead who was now standing behind her. She watched as her image in the picture looked at him and smiled so lovingly and his image did the same. 'Remember,' she heard echo in her head again.

She reached into her pocket of the blazer she was wearing, her fingers closing around the remembrall that she brought everywhere with her. She pulled it loose from its confines, looking at it. A swirl of white smoke seemed to lash through the deep red as realization hit her. "It's you," she whispered. The photo, the remembrall, that smile he gave her, and the voice in her head. It all clicked. "It's you I can't remember."

"Well that's a step in the right direction," he finally spoke. His tone held a bit of a laugh, barely serious, just happy to be alone with her.

She looked over her shoulder at him and returned the ball to her pocket. "Why can't I remember you?"

"Bloke by the name of Malfoy. Hit you with a curse."

"I know that part," he interrupted him. "But that was months ago. Surely this isn't the first time we're meeting again. Surely I've been told it was you many times before. In the very least once." Her anger was starting to bubble to the surface. "That spell should have only made me forget the past, not things that have happened afterwards."

"We've been trying to figure that out for a while now. Quite frustrating, really. But, you know, you've never been able to put the pieces together yourself before so this is actually a pretty big deal."

"I can't even remember your name," she murmured and looked up at him, meeting his eyes. When they met again, her brain got fuzzy and she shook her head to clear it. She blinked a few times, looking at the stranger in front of her. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asked as if her mind had been completely wiped again.

A deep frown grew on the strangers face as he realized her memory had returned for what only felt like a split second. He boldly stepped forward, reached into her pocket and removed the remembrall. He held it up to her eye level. The fog inside swam a light misty pink. "Yeah, you know me. I'm the one who gave you this," he said a bit more harshly than he meant to before grabbing her hand and pressing the ball into her palm. He turned from her, his own anger plainly apparent, before he stormed from the room, leaving Hermione alone and confused.

"Wait!" she called just as he had gone out of sight, quickly trying to make up the distance between them. "Please, wait!" They were both in the middle of the dining room where the other guests were still gathered. He was on his way out the door when she called after him again, her voice so desperate that he stopped in his tracks. "Please!" All eyes were on the duo who were causing a scene in the middle of a party.

She approached him slowly, his back still to her, the remembrall still clutched in her hand where he had put it. She raised it slowly. "If you gave me this, then we must know each other. The note that came with it… What it said…" The murmuring of the guests began when she spoke.

"Hermione," Harry called softly as he moved towards his best friends.

"No, Harry," she stopped him. "Something just happened and… and I can't remember what but…" She rubbed her head as her brain felt fuzzy again. "I need to sit down." There was a shuffle and rush of feet as Hermione was led to the nearest chair. As she sat, she put her head in her hands and closed her eyes, the scarlet ball pressed to her temple. The colors inside swam wildly like it wasn't sure what to conclude on what its possessor had forgotten. She opened her eyes when a hand touched her knee and when she looked up, there was that shaggy head of ginger hair again. The stranger's expression was apologetic and worried. She avoided his eyes. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on?" she whispered. As if this were a command, most of the guests in the room dispersed, heading in different directions except for Harry, Ginny, and the red headed stranger who met Harry's glance and nodded. The group recounted the events that had led to Hermione's mind being wiped and what had just occurred in the other room.

"You were remembering and then you looked right at me and it was like it all melted away," Ron recalled. "It was like finding out you forgot me to begin with all over again."

"Wait," Ginny interrupted. "Did your eyes meet?"

"Yeah," her brother nodded.

"It's like a trigger. I noticed it when we were out at dinner a while ago and a few times since then. It's like when you look each other in the eye, the spell is cast all over again."

"That bloody bloke Malfoy!" Ron practically exploded.

"So he knew the spell might fade over time and made sure it would be recast. He knew you might start to remember again," Harry spoke aloud, trying to make sense of everything. "Bloke might be smarter than we thought." Hermione's gaze stayed locked on her shoes, her brow furrowed, trying to take this news all in.

"If I keep forgetting, I want you to remind me. I want to know what I'm forced to forget because… because maybe if we talk about it enough, I'll start remembering on my own." She glanced up at Ron then quickly adverted her eyes. "And please be patient, don't let your temper flare. It really doesn't help at all," she added, swallowing hard. "Not when my own anger at this is incredibly out of control."

Ron nodded. "Well it's settled then. We go through it every day if we need to and I keep my temper in check."

"You should wear a nametag, Ron," Ginny joked. Everyone laughed, the tension easing slightly.

"Oh yeah, it'll say my name is Ron, the bloke you can't remember." The group had a good laugh for a while before settling down again.

"You know," Hermione began. "It might not be a bad idea, the name tag. Maybe just carry it with you or when you know you'll be seeing me."

"Not a bad idea, Ron," Harry chimed in. "We can put some pictures up in your flat, too, Hermione."

"Send you a howler every day," Ginny laughed. The group chatted for a bit before turning in for the evening. Hermione went to bed that night with a good feeling, like things were getting better and everything would be ok.

An arm around her neck. A struggle. A flash of light, brighter than she'd ever experienced. A scream, was that her voice? Then nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: It makes me SO happy that you guys are liking this story! Some of the reviews are really shocking me at how much you like it! To answer a few questions... the story is done. It's 21 chapters. I just don't want to push it all out at once in case I get a bad review and want to change something. I'm very critical of my own work. I've read and re-read this story a million times. I re-read each chapter before I upload it to make sure everything sounds perfect. With that said, thank you so much for reading! This one is a bit short, but that just means the next will come faster! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 6**

_September 1999_

A few weeks later, Hermione was forced to take the morning off of work to have her fireplace worked into the floo network. The entire process was much more complicated than even the brightest witch or wizard would think. The setup involved three wizard technicians, two aurors, several test dummies, and a giant bucket of floo powder.

The aurors arrived first, Harry, of course, volunteering for the task. He apparated right into her living room alongside a tall redhead. After greeting her best friend, she looked at his colleague. His face seemed familiar to her and as her eyes traveled over him, they landed on a shiny badge on the chest of his robes.

"Ron. The bloke you can't remember," she read and it clicked. "You took Ginny's advice."

The grin on his face could have lit the entire Ministry of Magic headquarters. "Yeah. Yeah, I did," he said. "You remember?"

"I remember joking about it at her party, yeah. Though without seeing it, I don't think I would have."

"Doesn't matter," Ron kept grinning. "What if's don't matter."

Hermione just smiled back at him before Harry interrupted. "Did you know that if not set up properly, a fireplace can open a portal anywhere? I heard once a hippogriff came charging through one. Now they make sure aurors are on hand in case anything pops out of there."

"Why not just put a bubble shield charm around it? That way if anything came in, there's enough room for it to fit but it's blocked from… causing damage."

"A bubble shield charm," Rom murmured. "How many wizards and witches work in the floo network department and never thought of that?"

The trio laughed as there was a knock on the door. Hermione let in the team of technicians who arrived partially via muggle transportation. They must have looked very out of place in their mismatched clothes. One short wizard was even carrying an oversized floral woman's purse.

"Honor to be helping you today, Miss Granger," the wizard with the purse spoke. "Should only take an hour or two. We trust that the aurors assigned to this task today are already here?"

"Right here," Harry answered as he and Ron emerged from the kitchen.

The wizard's eyes widened at the sight of the famous Harry Potter and he dropped his bag by accident, causing a very loud thud as it hit the floor. "Harry Potter," he murmured slowly. "Never thought I'd get the greatest pleasure to meet you, sir. It's an honor, a true honor. And Mr. Weasley, too!" he exclaimed when he noticed Ron. His coworkers murmured to each other in excitement. "Three of the greatest most brave wizards of our time all in the same little flat with us today. An honor," he repeated.

"Pleasure to meet you," Harry nodded, extending his hand which the smaller wizard took too eagerly.

Trying to bring the focus back to getting her fireplace in order, Hermione motioned to the bag. "Undetectable extension spell?" she laughed.

"Hmm? Oh, yes," the wizard spoke, finally letting go of Harry's hand and picking the bag back up.

"I'm familiar with it," she said with a smirk. "Let me show you to the fireplace."

Two hours later, Hermione's living room was filled with multicolored leaves from a portal in a windy forest being opened during the process. With a wave of his wand, the lead wizard in charge of setting up the floo made them all disappear. "All set Miss Granger. Last five test dummies were sent successfully back to the Ministry. If you don't mind, we'll be taking it back ourselves."

"Don't mind at all," she smiled gratefully. "Thank you for your help." They all said goodbye to the crew before they were engulfed by the bright green flames that filled the fireplace. Hermione let out a deep sigh once the last was gone. "That took forever!" she said, exasperated. She turned back to her friends, a look of confusion briefly passing over her face. She saw the name tag again on Ron's chest and the confusion left, a smile filling her features. He smiled back. "So it's just about lunch time. Do you need to go back to work or can you stay to eat?"

"We can stay!" Ron answered before Hermione could finish her sentence. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ron can stay. I have another meeting. Besides, Hermione, you're not that great a cook."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "I've gotten better!" she interjected.

"Sure you have," Harry said with a knowing wink. He moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her in a hug, whispering in her ear. "He asked me that if you remembered if he could have some time with you. Tell him to leave if anything goes wrong, he'll understand." Hermione nodded as Harry pulled back from their embrace. "Think I'll take the floo, really test it out," he said, clapping Ron on the shoulder. "See you later, mate."

"Yeah," Ron answered, his hands finding his pockets, his eyes on Harry until he disappeared in the green flames of the fireplace.

Hermione wordlessly went back to the kitchen, starting to pull a few things out to fix lunch for the two of them. She could sense that he followed her there and that he was standing in the doorway. She couldn't really explain it, but it was like she could feel his presence nearby, smell him in the air. Her mind was racing, this was the first time that she could recall that they were alone together. But was it really the first time? Similar thoughts passed through her mind as she made them lunch, bringing their plates to the table when it was done. She sat across from him, picking at her food as he dove right in. She wondered if he always dove right in. It was sweet of him to respect the easy silence that fell over them but she had enough time to think, she wanted to talk now. "You remember that day?" she asked. "That day with Draco? Do you remember what happened?"

Ron looked up, his mouth full of food. He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, I do." He watched her for a moment. "Do you?"

Hermione shook her head slowly, her eyes lowered. "No. I don't. Not really. I have these nightmares sometimes. I suspect they're of that day but I'm not sure, it's unclear."

"Do you want me to tell you? Everyone said I shouldn't but… if you want, we can talk about it."

Hermione bit her lip. She was worried of the effect this conversation might have on her but she wanted, needed to know what happened. "Please tell me."

Ron looked at her, taking a deep breath. "Ok…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thanks for the continue support! Just a note that if you have any questions, just ask! I reply to reviews via PM! Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I couldn't resist. Here's how it all happened, but you'll have to wait for the why. ;)  
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**Chapter 7**

_September 1999_

"We were having a row that day. Things were getting pretty serious with us. We were dating just over six months and, well, after what felt like years of, um, let's just call it tension between us, once we decided to be together and be serious, we moved pretty quickly. Ginny always said it was that war mentality, like why waste another second, you know? But I thought that was just her excuse to be with Harry." Ron took a deep breath, everything from that day was so clear, it was like he could bring himself right back to it.

The couple had been looking at apartments to rent together. Hermione had insisted on living in the muggle world, believing that it would be a unique experience for Ron.

"You're really expecting me to live without magic?" he asked her as they strode down the street. He'd been complaining about the prospect ever since Hermione announced they'd be looking at places to live in a normal muggle area of London.

"Of course not!" Hermione exclaimed but then lowered her voice. He was on her last nerve lately. "There are spells to put on the windows and walls so no one can detect there's magical activity from the outside. Anti-muggle type charms so they're oblivious to it. Seriously Ron, like I'd expect either of us to go without magic, honestly!" Hermione checked the piece of paper in her hands as they stopped at the corner. "It's just across the street," she murmured and crossed when the street was clear. "Behave yourself," she whispered to him as they approached the muggle realtor who would be showing them the apartment. They were brought up to a fifth floor flat and shown around, Ron being moody the entire time for being admonished like a child by his girlfriend.

"Isn't the drawing room lovely, Ron?" Hermione asked, grinning as she looked out the giant bay window. "Ron?" she asked when she got no response. "Ronald," she reprimanded when she saw him leaning against a wall, lost in thought. He snapped out of it and straightened up.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, lovely," he quickly responded but it was too late. Hermione's eyes blazed, he was in trouble. The visit was cut short, Hermione's patience being exhausted. She kept quiet until they were safely back inside Grimmauld Place.

"Honestly, Ron, you ruined a perfectly fine day that should have been exciting for us!" Hermione yelled as soon as the door was closed, storming into the living room, Ron trailing behind. She roughly pulled her coat off, tossing it and her wand down on a nearby chair. "You want to just stay here forever, don't you?"

"What's wrong with here?" he asked after tossing his own coat and wand in a similar fashion. The wands were ditched when they fought. Their fights weren't often but were explosive when they occurred. The look on Hermione's face quickly told him he shouldn't have spoken.

"Being here is just like being at school, practically. We're not going to grow together if we stay here forever, Ron, and you making this so difficult is like saying you don't want to be with me."

"Well with the way you're acting lately, staying here forever seems like paradise!" Before he could take his next breath in, a vase was flying at his head. With her frustration overflowing, Hermione had exploded and grabbed the nearest object to throw at him. The vase was better than a hex, though, Ron figured.

He ducked before the vase could hit him and he noted that the same vase had been thrown at him the last time they had a big fight. Hermione must have magically repaired it afterward. The next few moments seemed to go in slow motion. Ron straightened to watch her next move, taking a few steps towards her to try to physically stop her from throwing anything else at him. He grabbed her arm as her other outstretched to the mantle where another vase Ron hadn't noticed before sat. As soon as her fingers wrapped around it, they were both being pulled through time and space by the navel.

They landed in a poorly lit room that felt cold and damp like a dungeon. It felt familiar to Ron.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

There was a flash of light and Hermione screamed as she saw Ron's limbs stiffen and then heard the thud when he landed on the floor.

"Lumos."

Hermione saw a light appear as the tip of someone's wand lit. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she gasped as she saw Draco Malfoy.

"Hello," his voice echoed and he began to laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls.

"Draco," Hermione said cautiously. "Wh… what are you doing?" she stammered. He began to walk towards her, an evil smirk on his face as he pointed his wand at her.

"Getting even," he answered, his voice solidly evil.

In the distance, a few pops could be heard and the ceiling rattled as people ran above them. Voices began to fill her senses. "Check upstairs!" boomed a voice. "We'll take the basement." A look of panic flashed over Draco's face. In an instant, he grabbed for Hermione, his arm going around her neck and pressing against her windpipe so it was hard for her to breath, let alone yell for help. His wand was pointed at her head. She struggled against him as aurors charged into the dungeon, casting spells to light up their surroundings, wands pointed at her and Draco. "Let her go," boomed the same voice from before. "Draco, drop your wand!"

Draco's breathing was heavy and he panicked then, shouting out a spell. "Oblivi Kedavra!" There was a bright blast of light from the tip of Draco's wand. It was almost blinding. Hermione let out an agonizing scream. The aurors began to shoot spells at him as he let go of Hermione and she collapsed on the floor near Ron, unconscious.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Once again thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you're liking the story! I'm sorry I kinda of skimmed over Hermione's reaction to what happened in this chapter. But there's some lighthearted good times and story progression here. Hope you enjoy! More will be revealed in later chapters!  
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**Chapter 8**

_September 1999_

"Stop," Hermione whispered. "I don't want to hear anymore right now."

Ron had finished relaying the events of the night that Draco attacked them both. Hermione's recurring nightmares aligned with the story Ron had just told her. Hearing the details made her ache inside. How could that have happened, what had Ron felt since he had to watch, and what exactly happened next? Hermione looked up and met Ron's eyes and before she could look away, her brain got fuzzy and she'd forgotten everything they just discussed. Ron recognized the confused and lost look on her face and sighed. He straightened up and pointed to his nametag. "I'm Ron, the bloke you can't remember," he said with a small smile that broadened when she smiled in return.

"Right," Hermione said. "Ron."

A few weeks later was Hermione's birthday and she had invited her friends and family over to celebrate. She spent the entire morning trying to prepare a feast though her magical culinary skills were not that up to par. Of all the books Hermione had dug her nose in over the years, a magical cookbook had not been one of them. Guessing that the young girl would need some help, Mrs. Weasley arrived early to lend a hand. The fireplace roared and filled with an emerald green fire as she arrived which made Crookshanks raise his head lazily to check out the new guest. Hermione dropped her wand in surprise, the cake she was trying to ice falling and splattering on the floor.

"Oh no!" Hermione cried at the ruined cake, immediately bending down to try to salvage the mess.

"Not to worry, dear," Molly Weasley quickly responded, using her own wand to quickly clean up the ruined cake. "It's your birthday, just relax and I'll take care of the food."

Hermione bit her lip. "Can… can you teach me?" Molly looked up at Hermione with a heartwarming smile. Over the years of watching her blossom, Molly and her husband, Arthur, had grown to consider Hermione as a daughter rather than their children's friend, the sentiment only deepening when she had begun dating Ron. As a daughter, it was only right that Molly teach her how to cook. Having spent so much time away from her muggle parents, Hermione had never had shared moments over cake mixes with her mother or grilling lessons with her dad.

"Of course, dear, of course," came Molly's motherly voice and she pulled Hermione back into the kitchen. The two spent the rest of the morning trying out cooking spells and making some tasty treats for the party.

Before long, the rest of her guests began to arrive, mostly by way of her fireplace, but her parents, of course, came through the front door. The party was in full swing by the time Mr. and Mrs. Granger arrived and Hermione greeted them happily, reminding them that the other guests were witches and wizards, like her.

"Dear, we know," her father reminded her from behind a very large giftwrapped box. "Books," he told her, ruining the surprise of the gift as was his tendency. "Some new releases." Hermione gave him a knowing smile, used to him telling her what was inside the box before she got a chance to open it. She led them into the sitting room where George Weasley and Harry had just started a game of exploding snap. One of the cards exploded just as they walked into the room and Hermione's mother jumped and let out a small shriek, not expecting such an event to happen.

"Kids," Molly excused her son, ushering Mrs. Granger into the kitchen with her as Mr. Weasley quickly stole Hermione's father's attention by asking him what a blender was and how they worked. As the 'adults' became preoccupied, Hermione turned back to her friends. The fireplace flashed a brilliant emerald green and a tall redheaded boy appeared, holding a small giftwrapped box in his hand. Hermione squinted at him, she knew who this was but couldn't pinpoint him exactly. The letter R was drifting around her head and when he smiled at her, she said it out loud without thinking.

"R," she began and he raised an eyebrow. "Your name starts with an R."

He nodded and kept smiling. "Yeah. Yeah, it does." He stepped closer to her, holding out the gift. "The full name's Ron, though. Ronald, actually. Happy Birthday. I, uh, got you this before the accident and I still wanted to give it to you." Both were unaware that everyone at the party was watching them.

"Ron," she repeated, taking the gift. "Thank you. I'll open it later."

Their moment was interrupted when a card on the table exploded and George fell back, patting out a smoldering spot on his vest which made everyone laugh.

"I guess George loses!" Harry laughed and everyone fell back into the jovial pace of the party. Hours later, after Mrs. Wealsey let Hermione take full credit for the dinner they prepared together, and the candles on her birthday cake were blown out, Hermione began to open some of her presents. She sifted through the box of books from her parent's, tasted one of her favorite candies from a box Ginny had gotten her, and shook her head with a laugh when Harry gave her a magic 8 ball that he picked up from a local muggle toy shop. "Now you can really predict the future," he'd told her.

"Mine next," Ron interrupted, pushing the box he had brought closer to her. "I had to order it special a while ago so it has a bit of sentimental meaning behind it that you probably won't remember but… I wanted you to have it. Maybe it'll help… you know…" he trailed off.

Hermione just smiled and opened the box to reveal a heart shaped locket. The front was carved with a floral design and inside Ron had fit two magical pictures of them inside, their miniatures selves moving in the tiny frame. "It's beautiful," she smiled at him and put it on.

The party continued for a while longer before her guests started to leave. Harry, Ginny, and Ron were the last ones left, the four friends settled on the couch as they wound down. Ron moved into the empty seat beside Hermione and reached out to touch the necklace she wore. "You didn't see the back of it," he told her.

She took it into her own hands and turned it over to see an inscription on the back. "The journey never ends," she read and smiled, looking at him. "I guess it's true, isn't it? I mean from what I've been told, we've been through a lot and it hasn't stopped. We're still trying."

"I'll try until the day I die," he told her, his voice dropping low so only she could hear.

"Good. I don't want you to stop trying." She turned her head to look up into his eyes and he looked away quickly. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"It happens every time," he began, glancing nervously at Ginny and Harry. "Every time our eyes meet you forget again and I don't want you to forget this time." Ron slumped back against the couch, his eyes lowered to his lap where his hand nervously picked at a spot on his jeans. Hermione reached over and placed her hand over his, also resting back against the couch.

"It'll get better," Hermione said softly. "It's starting to already."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: as always, thank you for reading! The reviews really make my day :) Again, as always, if you have any questions or comments, I reply to reviews via PM if I know something won't be answered later on in the story. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 9**

_October 1999_

Ron made a huge effort in the following weeks to stay constant in Hermione's memory. He stopped by her office at work just to say hello and came by her flat in the evening to reminisce about all of their adventures together. Whenever he appeared in her doorway or fireplace, a look of confusion and sometimes panic filled her expression but she always quickly collected herself and greeted him. "Your name starts with an R," she'd always say and then murmured to herself that because of her accident she couldn't remember him. Her secret was that she looked at the pictures in her locket every morning, forcing herself to remember who he was and why she had a hard time remembering.

Hermione liked the sound of his voice and the excitement in his tone as he relived memories that she remembered but without him present. In her world, everything was as Ron recalled, but just without him there. Her favorite memories he recalled were ones that involved just the two of them, memories that were washed clean from her mind. At first, she told him how she remembered the events without him, but after seeing the disappointment on his face and enjoying it when he was happy much more, she stopped interrupting.

"You were brilliant," he grinned, recalling some war stories. "Without hesitation you just stabbed the cup and it sort of exploded." He looked up at her beside him on the couch. "It still amazes me, you know, how brave you were. Well, how brave you are. You never faltered."

"A true Gryffindor," Hermione smiled, reaching her hand out to take his. He laced their fingers together and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I wish I could remember the amazing things you did, Ron, because just hearing about it again is making everything make sense. I mean, how could someone not fall for a guy like you?"

Ron smiled and moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she cuddled closer. This was heaven to him at the moment. Of course he wished he could have the intimacy they had before, but he was taking what he could get and cherishing every moment of it.

"I have a confession to make," he said softly, stroking her hair as they enjoyed the silence of the room.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's our anniversary."

Naturally, Hermione did the math in her head and lifted her chin to look at him. "It's October, though. We didn't start dating right after the war? That was May. Why did we wait?"

Ron shrugged. "Well we took it slow. You were gone for almost two months looking for your parents and spent a lot of time with them once they were back. I helped George out with the store while you were away. We tried out a few dates but then you decided to go back to school. I started Auror training and it was me who had had enough of being apart. We met in Hogsmeade and," he chuckled slightly.

"And what?" Hermione asked, wanting him to finish the story.

"As soon as I saw you, I ran over and just grabbed you and snogged you. Our second kiss since the war. Well, I guess there was more than one during the war, but we both sort of felt awkward about it once the adrenaline wore off. But I'd had enough and I made up my mind. I wanted to be with you, even if you were at school and I was training. I wanted it to be Ron and Hermione, you know?"

"So what happened after you snogged me?"

"Well, you clocked me with your bag and asked me what took me so long," he laughed.

"I did not!" Hermione laughed.

"You did!" Ron replied, laughing as well. "And it sort of just flew from there. We wrote nearly every day, spent holidays together, and I'd meet you in Hogsmeade on weekend trips. Once school was over, you stayed with me at Grimmauld Place where I was staying with Harry."

"And then the accident," Hermione recalled. "And I moved here."

Ron nodded. "This is the same flat we looked at the day we fought. You'd completely forgotten about that day. I took you picking this place as a sign that part of what we had was still alive. I'll never stop fighting for it to come back, Hermione."

Hermione looked up at him, deciding to focus on his lips, his nose, his forehead, anything but his eyes because she knew if she locked eyes with him, she'd be overcome with that fuzzy feeling and she'd forget again. "What if we focus on new feelings? Building new memories?"

Ron watched her eyes travel over his face and knew what she was doing. "Well we're already doing that, aren't we?"

"Yeah, I guess we are," she smiled and reached up to touch his hair. "Sorry the anniversary isn't very romantic."

"Given what we've gone through, this is more than I could ask for," he said and settled into a comfortable snuggle with her. "Turn on that muggle TV thing again. I rather enjoyed that last time you did."

Hermione laughed and reached for the remote control, turning the TV onto a random channel. It didn't matter what, Ron was amused in general by the television. She cuddled back up to him, enjoying his warmth and soon falling asleep next to him. She awoke in the middle of the night, the TV still on and Ron asleep with his head thrown back and his mouth wide open, snoring gently. She looked at the clock, it was a quarter to midnight, then looked back at the person she was cuddled against, struggling to remember exactly who he was. She felt a light chain around her neck and reached for it, finding a locket there. As she closed her hand around it, she remembered. This person was Ron and she couldn't remember exactly who he was because of a curse that Draco Malfoy hit her with. And today, for a few more minutes, it was their would-have-been one year anniversary together. Placing a hand on his chest, she shook him slightly. "Ron. Ron, wake up." She hated to do it, but she needed to send him home. Despite what today was and how much she remembered, she was worried of what the effects would be of waking up and not remembering the man next to her at all if he stayed the whole night. So she shook him a little harder to get him on his way. "Ron, it's time to go," she said a bit louder. He let out a loud snore as he awoke that jostled Crookshanks away from his spot atop the couch. He let out a hiss and pounced onto the floor, leaving the room with his tail in the air.

"Bloody cat always had it in for me," he murmured, rubbing his face. Hermione was facing him now, her hand still wrapped around her locket. He glanced at the clock and yawned. "I should go," he said, stretching some before getting up slowly.

"Yeah," Hermione said softly and stood with him, walking over to the fireplace with him. He took a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, a burst of emerald green flame erupting. It wasn't good to be apparating when he was so sleepy and unable to focus. He turned to face her again, smiling.

"Well, goodnight," he smiled, hesitating for a moment before making a move toward the fireplace again. Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him to her, quickly standing on her tiptoes to reach his lips. When they kissed, everything seemed to melt away. Her thoughts became clouded and clearer at the same time.

An arm around her neck and a struggle. A brilliant flash of light, brighter than she'd ever seen. A scream that was definitely her own. But no darkness this time. Just the smell of fresh parchment and spearmint toothpaste.

Her eyes snapped open as a fuzzy feeling overcame her. Ron looked at her worriedly. "What's the matter?" She swallowed hard and looked up, testing the theory that had quickly formed in her thoughts as she met his eyes. "No, don't," he said, quickly looking away but she grabbed his face.

"Look at me," she whispered and he obeyed. She looked into his eyes and nothing happened. No trigger, no fuzzy feeling in her brain. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ron," she said softly. "Now don't waste my floo powder, go on home." She shooed him into the fireplace. "And speak clearly."

He looked happily confused but did as he was told and stepped into the fireplace. "Grimmauld Place," he said firmly and the emerald flames engulfed him and he was gone.

The smile dropped from Hermione's face once he was gone and she looked down at Crookshanks as he snaked around her legs. She picked him up and pet him softly, walking to where her coat was hanging. She always kept her remembrall in her coat pocket. Taking it out, she watched as the red smoke swirled for a moment before a few lashes of white peeked through, dancing almost merrily before mixing back in with the red. "We have work to do if we want to fix this," she said to the cat. "I have a plan."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: As always, thanks for reading and reviewing! The reviews from chapter 9 have really inspired me to keep writing and since this story is done, I've been working on a new one. It's going to be Rose Weasley based and I'd really appreciate some ideas! If a thought for a story featuring Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy has ever crossed your mind that you'd like to share, please send me a PM! For now, enjoy Chapter 10 of Remember Me!  
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**Chapter 10**

_November 1999_

The next few weeks were full of giddy young courting between Ron and Hermione. Ron would apparate to Hermione's apartment in the morning and they'd take the floo to the Ministry of Magic together after a quick breakfast. Every day, Ron would escort her to her office before reporting to work himself. On slow days, they met for lunch but Hermione often stayed later than Ron which prevented them from leaving together. Ron would usually pop up in the evening, eager to watch more television. Like his father always was, Ron was intrigued by the muggle objects that adorned Hermione's home. She'd created a nice mixture of the muggle and wizarding worlds where she lived as to accommodate both sides of her life.

All the while, Hermione's mind was becoming clearer and clearer. She admitted to not remembering Ron in the past, but she didn't have trouble remembering him anymore in the present. Ron seemed perfectly content with this, not really minding all that much about the past and just wanting to focus on the future. Hermione pretended not to care all that much, either, but was secretly going to work on her plan. Ever since what would have been their anniversary, Hermione had been secretly meeting with the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, trying to put her plan into action.

"There's just no historical proof that your theory is correct," Kingsley told her one evening when she stayed late to meet with him.

"There's no historical proof of a spell like this ever being performed and what's been happening so far all makes such clear sense."

"Hermione," he said affectionately. They had grown close over the years and were on a first name basis. "I know this entire situation is very upsetting, but I can't simply order the death of a prisoner to test a theory. And if your theory is wrong, then we'll never be able to figure it out with him gone."

Hermione sat back against her seat, biting her lip. Hearing it out loud made it sound absolutely mental. "It's been my understanding," said Hermione calmly. "That the dementors were ordered to take it easy on him because some people think the cure to this spell can only be obtained from Draco himself if he's alive."

"That is correct, in a sense. You also are aware that some of the most famous healers in the magical world have seen you and it is based on their professional advice that Mr. Malfoy has been treated, well, gently."

"With all due respect, it's been over six months and these so-called famous healers haven't bothered with me since I left St. Mungos." She gave Kingsley a very serious look. "Be honest with me, Kingsley. They've given up, haven't they?" Hermione's lips drew into a straight line as she met the minister's gaze. This thought had passed through her mind time and time again over the last few months, but she wanted it confirmed.

Kingsley lowered his gaze. "It's not so much that you've been given up on, Hermione, but more so that ideas and theories have been exhausted at this point."

"My theory hasn't been exhausted," she interrupted. "Look, obviously being in Azkaban this long as had some sort of effect on him. Just being there has had to have shaken him a bit. When I first woke up after the spell I had absolutely no idea who Ron was and while I can't remember who he was, I remember who he is. That's a huge step in the right direction but I'm not satisfied. I need to remember who he was, what we had, what we went through together. I refuse to let Draco Malfoy win."

Kingsley set his gaze on her for a moment as he concentrated on her demeanor. He'd never seen her this serious before. He began to nod slowly. "I'll see what I can do, but there are no promises. Let's meet again in a week."

A smile formed on Hermione's lips and she nodded. "Ok, we'll meet in a week," she said and stood from her chair, extending her hand to shake Kingsley's before leaving his office. As she walked out, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her remembrall, giving it a squeeze as she strode down the hall.

When she arrived home, she found the lights on and a delicious smell wafting towards her from the kitchen. She smiled when Ron stuck his head out from kitchen doorway and grinned at her. "You'll never guess what my mom taught me," he said as he raised a wooden spoon in the air.

"No way!" Hermione laughed and hastily joined him in the kitchen where the stove was covered in pots and pans magically stirring themselves. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her throat. "Ron! You can cook!" she laughed again, wrapping both her arms around one of his and standing on her tip toes to kiss his cheek.

"Well, that's yet to be seen. I mean, it's cooked, sure, but does it taste good?" He looked down at her and placed an affectionate kiss on her forehead. "Go wait in the dining room. It's just about ready."

Hermione pecked quickly at his lips, having gotten into the habit of doing so over the last few weeks, before venturing off to the dining room. He had set the table for them, even had a few candles out. Pulling her wand from her pocket, she lit the candles and pulled a bottle of wine from the rack, opening it with magic and pouring it into the two glasses Ron had put out. She turned when she heard him enter the room. He was biting his lip as he floated a few serving dishes onto the table. Once they were safely put down, she eyed him. "Show off," she smirked and sat down.

They enjoyed an intimate evening together. It turned out that Ron wasn't half bad at the magical recipe his mother had taught him and the couple decided to try a few new ones together next time. "So what kept you at work so late?" he asked after finishing his glass of wine.

"Well the Minister is a very busy man," Hermione said casually, leaning forward on her elbows, twisting the stem of her wineglass between her fingers.

Ron's eyebrow raised and he stared at her for a long time. "You had a meeting with the Minister? The Minister of Magic?" Hermione nodded. "Why?"

Hermione shrugged, not sure if she should entrust her plan in him yet. "He just wanted to check in on me and see how I was doing," she lied.

"Oh. Cool," Ron replied, believing her and quickly changing the subject to an adventure he had at work that day. As Hermione listened to him talk, she decided then that she couldn't tell him about her plan. It just had to happen, she'd make it happen, and he'd be surprised by the positive outcome that she so desperately wanted.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Enjoy! Thanks for the reviews and kind words!  
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**Chapter 11**

_December 1999_

Weeks passed without Hermione and the Minister having another meeting. She had received owl after owl rescheduling their conference. After the third time she was jilted, Hermione got fed up and went straight to his office anyway, and was met by an Auror or two who didn't allow her to pass. After trying this a few times, she gave up and resorted to sending her own interoffice mail to the Minister on almost a daily basis. It had been at the forefront of her mind at all times, she even found it difficult to focus on her own work because she was so frustrated that her brilliant plan was being impeded on.

She was even lost in thought in the midst of the Weasley's Christmas party, sitting at the busy dining room table between Ron and Harry. Hearty laughs brought her back to the present and she shook her head slightly to focus again but was finding it hard. She was able to watch as Mr. Weasley and George excused themselves to the sitting room, followed closely by Mrs. Weasley, leaving Harry, Ron, Ginny, and herself at the table to continue their conversation. She looked at Ron beside her and saw his mouth open in laughter but heard nothing. All of the sound in the room was suddenly turned off but seemingly for only her even though she was trying to focus. Her skin began to feel cold and a ringing in her ears increased as she turned her head to look at Harry who was just then turning to look at her as well, a wide grin on his face. Upon seeing the dazed look on her face, his jovial demeanor fell and he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. She knew it was there, but she felt nothing.

An arm around her neck and a struggle. A brilliant flash of light, brighter than she'd ever seen. A scream that was definitely her own. Then darkness and she was being pushed and pulled in every direction.

With a sudden rush, a screaming male voice filled her ears and her brain became fuzzy. Then everything came rushing back and clarity filled her. She opened her eyes, not remembering when she had closed them. Ron was gripping her shoulders, a desperately scared look on his face. "Hermione," he said frantically.

"Ron," she repeated back, bringing a hand up to her head, rubbing her temple.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"Are you alright?" followed Harry.

"I…" she stammered. "I'm fine. Now. I… remember. A bit." She looked up at Ron. "I remember a bit from school. About you. About us."

Ron was bewildered, between what had just happened and what she was saying, he was at a complete loss of words. Harry answered for him. "What is it that you remember, Hermione?"

Hermione gently removed Ron's hands from her shoulders as his grip was becoming tighter and sort of hurt. "A lot about us in our first year," she spoke softly. "I… I can't even remember what the memory was before that. Well, what the false memory was. I remember it almost like you told me, Ron. You embellished a bit, didn't you?" she couldn't help but smile a bit at him and a blush crept up his cheeks. "I remember it all up to that day, really. Meeting on the train, the troll, the chess game. But then it sort of just stops." Ron passed his hand over her hair and leant in to kiss her temple, still speechless.

"What could have caused it to come back?" came Ginny's voice from beside Harry.

"Time?" Harry tried.

"Some sort of trigger," Ron finally spoke up.

"I think it has to do with Draco," Hermione murmured and turned to Harry. "Harry, do you remember when the dementors attacked you? On the train for the first time? You said you heard screaming and it was your mum?"

"How could I forget?" Harry answered.

"Well, I sort of just had a similar experience. It's happened just once before but my brain sort of gets fuzzy and it's like I'm in another place. I sort of have these flashes of what happened that night Draco cursed me. But then in this sudden rush everything becomes clear. It just happened and before everything sort of cleared up, I heard someone scream. I think it was Draco."

"How is that possible?" Ron began.

"It's magic," Harry responded. "How does anything weird that happens to us actually happen other than the simple excuse of magic?"

"Most of the things that happen to us have logical explanations," Hermione began. "Like…"

She was cut off by Harry who put his hand up, looking at her with a bored 'we've heard this a million times' sort of look. "Hermione, I know it kills you to do this, but for once, just take the simple answer. Besides, there are more important things to think about here. Like why you'd hear Malfoy screaming and then suddenly remember part of your past that you couldn't remember because of the bloke you heard screaming in your head," he spat out in one breath.

Everyone looked around at each other, no one suggesting a possible theory on what had just happened. Hermione had a pretty good explanation as to why but she didn't want to reveal it just yet. Perhaps the Minister had taken their conversation to heart and put some of his own plans into action recently. Maybe he agreed that Draco had been treated a bit more kindly than the other prisoners in Azkaban, or as kind as a dementor could treat someone. She'd make it a point to demand to see the Minister when she returned to work after the holiday.

"Why don't I take you home?" Ron spoke, reaching for her hand. It was late after all, they'd celebrated thoroughly, it would be ok to turn in now. Hermione nodded and they all stood, saying their goodbyes. Hermione slipped into the other room to say goodbye to the rest of the family before returning to the kitchen. They walked outside and out of bounds of the protective enchantments that still protected the Burrow to this day. "Ready?" Ron asked, holding his hand out to her and she nodded and took it. He turned on the spot and they apparated together into the living room of Hermione's flat. As soon as they were alone, her arms went tight around his middle and she pressed her face against his chest. His own arms moved around her, just holding her there for a moment before speaking. "We're going to beat this. We're starting to already. We've done so much more in our lifetime, this isn't going to stop us."

Hermione lifted her head up to look at him, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. It meant the world to her that he wasn't giving up, that he was fighting for her. She was important enough to him, even if she couldn't remember why, to continue to persevere. She pushed herself up on her tip toes when he looked back down at her and their lips met in a tender kiss that lasted just a short few seconds. Hermione lingered close, keeping her eyes closed as she spoke, her senses filled with the smell of new parchment and freshly mown grass. "Stay with me," she whispered. "I don't want you to go." She didn't have to ask twice. He nodded and took her hand, the couple slipping into the bedroom to spend the night.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Let the plan start rolling!  
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**Chapter 12**

_January 2000_

On the third day of the new year, Hermione dropped off her coat and briefcase at her desk and waited until Ron was well on his way to his own job before bee lining for the elevators. She went straight to the Minister's office and was actually quite surprised when the Auror that usually stood guard there let her walk right in.

"I was expecting you Miss Granger," spoke Kingsley from his desk. A pair of glasses sat on his nose as he reviewed some parchment on his desk.

Hermione did not wait for an invitation to take the seat across from him. "You've been avoiding me for over a month, Minister, but you've been working on what our last conversation was about. Don't deny it, I know it's true. You made sure the dementors didn't hold back on Draco. I'd even say you made sure they paid extra attention to him. Things have been happening with me and my memory. I know you've done something."

Kingsley put the parchment in front of him down and removed his glasses, leaning back in his chair as Hermione ranted. "Hermione, you've come to me today expecting that simply because I have kept some of my actions to myself that I would not be completely honest with you. I admire you and I respect you for all you've done and are doing for the magical community which is why I've been paying extra attention to your case. You are right, I looked into Draco Malfoy's file and after some review, I modified a portion regarding the dementor's attention to him. I expect the dementors were making up for lost time."

Hermione blushed when he spoke, realizing the tone and force she had used when she entered his office. "It's been working.," she spoke with a gentler voice. "On Christmas I had this sort of mental reflective breakthrough. It's a bit hard to explain but my brain got really fuzzy and I had a flashback, almost, of the night Draco attacked me. Then everything came rushing back and I could remember a bit. Memories that I can only assume I had blocked Ron out of were once again clear."

Kingsley listened intently and nodded. "You're still the brightest witch of your age, Hermione. And I know the positive results will make you want to rush forward, but we must be cautious with magic we've never encountered. I will continue to have the dementors…"

He was cut off by Hermione. "I want permission to see Draco in Azkaban."

The request startled him as his eyes widened and he sat up straighter. "Surely you aren't expecting me to grant this request. No one is allowed in Azkaban except for prisoners and dementors."

"That's not true. Certain high ranking officials have been allowed in the past," Hermione spoke, referring to the likes of Barty Crouch and his wife when it was said that their son was on his deathbed. Hermione conveniently left out that the couple had used that special visit to switch out Mrs. Crouch with their son.

"It's not safe, Hermione," said Kingsley paternally.

"I can cast a perfect patronus, you know that. And Draco isn't a threat without a wand. I'd be able to stun him if he made any sudden movements."

"What's the reasoning behind it?" Kingsley asked, not fully understanding why such a visit would be beneficial.

"When Sirius was in Azkaban he was able to stay sane because he knew deep down that he was an innocent man."

"Draco knows he's not innocent."

"But he knows his goal was met. Just knowing that is a happy enough memory for him to hold it together. He knows the longer he holds on, the longer my memory remains modified and the longer I forget Ron the more likely we stay apart forever. If he knows his grand plan hasn't worked, that it's not keeping us apart, it may be enough for him to give up hope."

"To be blunt, Hermione, it frightens me how much you want this man dead."

"It's not that I want to kill him, it's that I want my life back. It's that he planned this to deliberately hurt all of us. It's that he is getting satisfaction from my pain. If there were another way that meant he could live, than I'd be here with you discussing it. But we must face the facts here, Kingsley. In order for this spell to break, Draco's magical ties to this Earth must be broken and the only way for that to happen is for him to finish in this world." It was hard for Hermione to actually say out loud that she wished Draco would just die. The words were harsh, let alone the reality of it all. She'd seen enough death in her lifetime already.

"You've had plenty of time to think about this, haven't you?" the Minster asked, watching her carefully.

"Months. It must be done. Just let me go." Her eyes pleaded with him and they were silent for a few minutes as Kingsley sat back in his seat, contemplating her request.

"You'll need to go through a bit of general awareness training before you go that will take place after hours. Your other work at the ministry must not suffer, though I know it hasn't thus far. It is also very important that no one knows that I'm allowing this, Hermione," he finally spoke, particularly meaning those close to her such as Ron and Harry.

Hermione's eyes instantly lit up. "I won't tell a soul."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: A bit of filler here. Hopefully I get the next chapter up before the end of the weekend! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 13**

_February 2000_

Hermione had been working late since her meeting with the Minister of Magic. It started out as once a week but as February approached, she was staying late more frequently. Her excuse to her friends and especially Ron was that she was getting the ball rolling on a request to investigate the wellbeing of some house elves. All she had to do was say house elf and that was enough for anyone to change the subject. What she was actually doing was quite different, however. She was meeting with Kingsley himself to go over the finer aspects of Azkaban, reviewing and practicing several safety tips, and discussing exactly what she'd be speaking to Draco about.

This night, however, Hermione had set aside to simply spend with her friends. Having not believed for a single moment that her brother could cook, Ginny insisted that he make dinner not just for her, but for all of them. Since Ginny had been spending so much time away training with the Holyhead Harpies, Ron did not object to the demand.

He arrived early at Hermione's flat with his arms full of groceries and went right to work on preparing the meal. Harry and Ginny arrived later and Ginny immediately started teasing and taunting her older brother about being the chef of the night. Several promises of hexes later, dinner was ready and they all settled in the dining room for the meal. Ginny was pleasantly silenced once she tasted what her brother had created, even going as far as apologizing for not believing he'd be able to boil water, let alone cook an entire dinner. A smug smile filled Ron's features for the rest of the meal as he felt very accomplished and pleased with himself.

The group settled into comfortable conversation as the meal was finished. Ginny started telling stories about her training, which drew both Harry and Ron in as if she were hypnotizing them. Hermione sat back in her seat, looking around at the table full of her friends, people she loved and would give her life for. People she almost had given her life for.

A wave of dizziness overcame her and she closed her eyes as every sound in the room suddenly stopped. She felt an ice cold chill creep up her spine and her ears began to ring. When she opened her eyes, she wasn't sitting in her flat in London anymore, she was in a cold dark prison cell. She could feel the dementors approaching and suddenly her vision blurred. She was suddenly back in the Malfoy's dungeon basement. She felt an arm around her neck, saw a brilliant flash of light, and then she screamed.

With a sudden rush, a her screaming turned into a male scream and her brain became fuzzy. Then everything came rushing back and clarity filled her as the smell of spearmint toothpaste and a distinct shampoo filled her senses. She was back in her flat now, Ron at her side filled with worry and Harry and Ginny looking on with concern.

"It happened again," she murmured, bringing a hand up to rub her temple as Ron pulled her closer into his arms.

"Do you remember anything this time?" Harry asked, his voice coming out as smooth as he could make it.

Hermione gave the slightest of nods and pulled back from Ron just enough to look up at his face. "I remember… bits and pieces… about summers at the burrow," she spoke in pauses. "Pieces that were just empty before because they are memories of just the two of us. How I always got there before Harry and we'd ditch Ginny to just sit and talk." She glanced at Ginny who sat across the table at her with an eyebrow raised. "Sorry, Ginny." She focused her attention back on Ron. "You'd go on and on about Quidditch. You even snatched a book or two from my hands when I tried to ignore your blabbering," she laughed, remembering it all so clearly now. Ron cracked a smile listening to her. "The many times I caught you staring at me. You'd blush and quickly look away when I'd catch you…" She looked over at Harry and Ginny again who were both smiling as well. "But still not much about school. I mean my brain is telling me you were there but I just can't remember any specific moments."

"What about the time Ron tried to get you to actually play quidditch with us?" Ginny asked, recalling the humorous event. Hermione shook her head gently, signaling she didn't. "Oh. Well… he convinced you to get on a broom and you ended up falling off. Fred and George had a good laugh about it. You were fine, of course, just vowed never to touch a broom again. And Ron wouldn't leave your side the rest of the weekend. He was convinced he broke you or something."

"That one can stay forgotten," Ron piped in. "It wasn't one of my finer moments."

They all began to laugh except for Hermione, who was now upset that she couldn't remember that specific moment. Just hearing about it really showed what kind of person Ron was and that he always secretly cared for her.

"Well this obviously means something," Harry interrupted the laughter when he saw the look on Hermione's face. "I've got to agree with you this time, Hermione, we can't just blame it on magic with no explanation."

"Maybe the dementors are finally laying in on Draco," Ginny suggested and all eyes turned to her. "What?" she asked, not finding her comment anything extraordinary as the others so obviously did. "I think I read that when a witch or wizard dies, their magic goes with them."

"It does," Hermione confirmed. She had figured that out weeks ago. "For the most part."

"Well, when their health starts to deteriorate wouldn't their magic sort of go on the blitz? If Draco was having to bear dementor attacks, he can't be in too healthy a state, right? Ron, remember great Aunt Maribel? She had that poodle that she put a spell on to change the color of its fur whenever she wanted. But when she got old and sick, every time she sneezed the dog would turn neon pink. She was old and her magic was old and when she died, the dog turned white again and stayed that way."

"Exactly," Hermione said as if Ginny had just recited a speech she had written for her. "I've been thinking the same thing for months now," Hermione confessed. "As the dementors attack Draco more, the more he gets closer to death and the closer he gets, the more I remember. So basically, the only way for me to remember everything would be…"

Ron cut her off, finishing her sentence for her, "… for Draco to die."


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: A bit of fluff here, though I felt it was needed. I think it reminds the reader that Ron and Hermione once had something special and it's still alive. To everyone who remembered that next 'month' Hermione goes to visit Draco and forgets Ron altogether, no worries, I think it'll all make sense. Thanks for reading and reviewing! I love it!**

**Chapter 14**

_March 2000_

Hermione hurried home from work, actually canceling a meeting Kingsley had requested because today was an important day. Today was Ron's birthday.

She started the morning off right, surprising him with a Hogwarts style breakfast when he arrived at her flat before work. After sufficiently stuffing himself, he groaned that he wanted to just stay there with her all day, maybe take a nap, and definitely not go to work at all. She convinced him that he had to go and that she would meet him for lunch and that she had a surprise for dinner.

"All three meals with my favorite girl?" he had grinned at her. "Well that I simply can't pass up."

They shared a few kisses before heading to work. At lunch time, she took him to a muggle restaurant that he'd never been to before but enjoyed to the fullest. Muggle cooking was just different. And now as the sun was setting, she took the floo home and quickly went to work on preparing the flat for a romantic evening alone. Hermione had arranged with his parents to let him off the hook of the normal family feast that the Weasley children usually had on their birthdays. She insisted that this year meant something different for them and asked if they could postpone the family dinner for the weekend. Having always liked Hermione, Ron's parents agreed that the young couple could enjoy a quiet evening at home together rather than with the entire family.

Hermione conjured up many candles, magically lighting them and placing them all around the house. She magically set dinner cooking and then went to change into something more… appropriate. Ginny had helped her put an outfit together for tonight. Though she protested, saying she did not want any detail of her brother's sex life revealed to her and that she really didn't know a thing about dressing naughtily anyway, Hermione had been able to persuade her in the end into helping. The end result was a skirt that was much too short and a top that was cut much too low which showcased the locket that she never took off. She felt foolish as she looked at herself in the mirror. She tilted her head sideways, gazing at her own reflection. The more time she spent with Ron lately, the more details he revealed about the relationship they had had before her accident. One night over a bottle of wine, he let slip a few intimate details about a rendezvous or two they had in the past.

The fact that she couldn't remember these private moments with him surprisingly didn't upset her. It just made her want him more. She wanted to create new memories and decided that his birthday was as good a time as any to begin. So here she was, in quite a slutty outfit, dinner cooking, candles lit, waiting for the birthday boy to arrive.

As if on cue, she heard a popping noise that announced Ron's arrival. "Hermione?" he called from the living room. She took a deep breath, pulling her skirt down a little before going to meet him. His eyes practically popped out of his head upon seeing her.

"Happy Birthday," she greeted him and immediately melted into his arms as he pulled her in for a kiss.

"I don't think I've ever in my life seen you wearing something like this," he murmured against her lips, his hands roaming from her hips, upward. It was easy for him to slip back into their old comfort zone where a touch or a kiss was more than welcomed.

"You don't like it?" she asked, pulling her head back to look up at him.

"Oh, I like it. It's just different. I wouldn't say this is a classic Hermione look."

"Well that's why it's for special occasions only," she smiled and took both of his hands in hers as she began to lead him into the kitchen. Once there, she let go of his hands and picked up her wand to finish dinner. She couldn't help but tug at her skirt and shirt as she moved around the kitchen. He couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable she was. He reached for her arm once the food was done and she was about to sit down.

"Go change," he murmured. She tried to protest but he shook his head. "I'll be more comfortable if you were comfortable." It was true. If he had to watch her fidget all night, he might go insane and he wasn't sure if it would be a good insane or not. She obliged and went to change but he couldn't resist a playful smack on the butt as she left. She jumped and squealed and gave him a dirty look but he just smirked and sat down at the table.

She came back in wearing a much more conservative outfit and they enjoyed dinner together and settled onto the couch afterward. Whatever random show on the TV Ron had settled on was soon forgotten as Hermione was successful in distracting him by placing delicate kisses on his neck. Before she could blink, she was in his arms and being carried to the bedroom.

The couple collapsed in a tangled mass of limbs onto Hermione's bed. Hands began to roam, clothing started to be removed, and they both fell into a comfort zone that felt incredibly natural. Earlier that day as Hermione thought about this moment, she was scared that she might be too nervous to go through with it but she was finding that every kiss made her relax more and more.

When the skin of one of her intimate areas brushed over his, a warm jolt shot through her and she became hungry for more. Every movement felt right, like a lock and key or a puzzle piece, and she had the oddest sensation that she'd been in this situation before. She had indeed been in this situation before, apparently more than once. She wasn't sure if she'd ever remember the details of their first night together, of her first time ever, but her body instinctively knew it was meant to be in this position with him and him alone. She found herself moving, shifting without thinking, evoking erotic sensations that coursed through her body and set every nerve of her body on fire. He knew exactly where to touch her to induce the gentlest moans of pleasure. Most importantly, they both remembered how to move together to make the most of every second that they were joined together as one. They were meant to be together and as the haze cleared and they looked into each other's eyes, they both knew it was true. They kissed once more before they settled down, her back to his chest, under the covers.

"I already sent an owl to our department heads," Hermione murmured. "We'll be late for work tomorrow."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Man I just like to string you guys along... :)  
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**Chapter 15**

_April 2000_

Hermione was busy at work when a scarlet interdepartmental paper airplane whizzed into her office and landed on her desk.

"Is it about the troll proposal?" one of her co-workers asked eagerly. Hermione just smirked and shook her head as she read the request from Kingsley to meet after normal hours that evening. "No, unfortunately not. Just a sort of personal request," she said and left it at that. She liked the people she worked with, but she didn't need them to know all of her business. Hermione wrote her reply that she'd meet in Kingsley's office at six that evening. With a wave of her wand, the paper folded back up and zipped from the room.

At six on the dot, Hermione entered the office of the Minister of Magic and sat across from him at his desk. "Going to quiz me on safety exits?" she asked with a laugh.

"No, Hermione, I think you've learned them quite well. As a matter of fact, I think you're ready to take the visit you've been requesting."

Both of Hermione's eyebrows raised so high they nearly met her hairline. "You're going to let me go?" she practically squeaked, clearing her throat immediately. "I mean, yes! I'm ready! I want to go. When?"

"In a week's time," Kingsley replied calmly, reviewing a piece of parchment before him. "You'll be making the journey during normal working hours. You won't tell a soul. I've sworn a couple of Aurors to secrecy. They're going to escort you since in general travel to Azkaban is not safe. The dementor's already have orders to bring you to Draco's cell. You will be allowed your wand and will have a half hours time to discuss the points we've gone over in the past few weeks. You will cast a patronus when you arrive since a dementor will be observing in case Mr. Malfoy, well, snaps. You must focus on the task at hand, Hermione, again as we have discussed. You want closure from Draco and you want to inform him that the spell he thinks is invincible is slowly breaking. Focus, keep your patronus strong, and you should be fine." He set the piece of parchment he was referring to back onto his desk and looked up at Hermione who had been listening intently.

Hermione took a deep breath in, digesting the news she had just received. She reached into the pocket of her robes and removed the remembrall that Ron had given her in an effort to get her to remember who he was. She held it in her hand and cardinal red swirls of smoke, not nearly as dark as when she first received the ball, engulfed the small glass orb. "Ron gave this to me two months after the accident. He apparated into my flat one night and left it for me. It was much darker back then," she said, referring to the intensity of color of the smoke inside. She held it up so Kingsley could see it closer. "You know, Neville Longbottom would always get these from his grandmother while we were at school. He was the only one I can remember ever actually having one. His never changed color." She looked up so her eyes met Kingsley's. "Mine does. When I remember things, you can see these wisps of white smoke flash around in there before mixing with the red and dulling its intensity. It knows what I'm trying to remember, and it's tracking my progress." She let out a soft laugh and shook her head. "And I thought these things were bogus."

"Remembrall's are interesting pieces of magic, Hermione. Most people believe that you're always forgetting something and therefore the smoke inside will always be red. But if its possessor knows what they are forgetting, in a sense, it actually works quite clear. For example, if a student was trying to remember the twelve uses for dragon's blood, they could hold the device in their hand and recite the uses. Upon reciting the twelfth correctly, the smoke inside would be a pristine white. So many people fail to realize its true use that it's gotten quite a bad reputation as a joke."

Hermione smiled, looking again at the remembrall in her hand, more determined than ever to see the pristine whiteness of the smoke inside. Hell, she'd settle for a dull pink.

A week later, she and Ron were having breakfast in her flat before work. Hermione had not spoken a word to him about the trip she'd be making that day. If she did, she probably wouldn't be able to go. If Ron knew, he'd surely do anything possible to make sure she didn't go.

"Busy day ahead," he murmured with his mouth full as he scanned an article about the last round of Quidditch games in the Daily Prophet. "We'll have lunch, though, as usual."

Hermione wasn't really listening to a word he said, her mind was focused already on the tasks of the day. "Mmhmm," she murmured before getting up to clear their plates. "We should go." Ron agreed and they both took the floo one after the other to work. As usual, Ron walked with Hermione to her office, which made her extremely nervous today. Two of Ron's co-worker's would be taking her to Azkaban today and she didn't want them to run into each other because Ron would surely inquire as to why they were there. She let out the breath she was unknowingly holding when they rounded the corner to the hallway leading to her department and there were no Auror's standing guard waiting for her. They made it to her office unscathed and he ducked down to give her his usual goodbye morning kiss.

"See you later," he smiled and she forced a smile back. She watched him walk back down the hall and nearly collide with two Auror's as all three of them tried to take the corner at once. She saw the odd questioning look on Ron's face before it disappeared around the corner.

"Miss Granger," one of the men spoke. "We're scheduled to leave in ten minutes."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Yes, I'm ready." She swallowed hard and took a deep breath in an effort to calm her racing heart. Suddenly a million doubts rushed into her mind. What if the trip itself was too dangerous and she didn't even make it to Azkaban? What if she got hurt during the travel? What if the dementor's had an uproar and attacked her? What if Draco attacked her? What if she tripped and fell and hit her head and the dementor's put her in a cell until she died? This was a horrible idea, a stupid idiotic idea. What could possibly make her want to do this? Her hand instinctively went to her throat and her fingers wrapped around the locket that sat beneath her robes. Her racing heart settled and she remembered why she was doing this. "I'm ready," she repeated.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: You're going to hate me for this. I promise more details to come. :D I just love playing games. Next chapter will come quicker since I only like teasing you all just a little bit :) Enjoy!  
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**Chapter 16**

_April 2000_

Hermione returned home after her visit to Azkaban instead of going back to work for the remaining hours of the day. She was drained and unfocused. Being around the dementors hadn't put her in a good mood and her confrontation with Draco had just exhausted her further. After arriving back at the ministry via her personal escort, she took the floo straight back to her flat, scaring Crookshanks who was lazing on the couch. She sluggishly moved to the kitchen and grabbed a piece of chocolate from a small stash she hid from Ron because he would devour anything out in the open. She instantly felt better after eating it, the sad and mopey feeling melting away.

She rolled her head on her shoulders, feeling stiff all over. She had been so tense about this visit that was finally over that every muscle in her body was protesting, refusing to relax. She gazed longingly at the couch but forced herself into the bathroom to take a long hot shower. Her muscles would thank her later.

After a long soak, she magically dried her hair, pulled on the most comfortable clothes she could find, and crawled into bed. The chocolate had helped the overwhelming feeling of despair, but the conversation between herself and Draco still clung strongly to the forefront of her memory.

He'd done it on purpose out of revenge, yet she still couldn't really understand why. The memory of that night and the fact that she was suffering was, indeed, keeping him going. She had faltered slightly with her memory, it was as if being in his presence had strengthened the spell. She was able to muster up some focus, however, and enjoyed his reaction when she let him know it wasn't working and that she and Ron were still together.

She was planning on being up and about by the time the normal work day ended in order to sway any suspicion that something was wrong but the nap she had settled into had held there for a long while. She knew Ron would show up at her flat, he always did, and he had to have known by now that she had left work. She hadn't thought about what his reaction to her not being at her desk at the end of the work day would be. Her first guess was that he'd be worried. Maybe he'd be mad. Perhaps sad. There was a chance that he wouldn't have noticed at all, simply assuming she finished a bit early and came home before him. She had no time to contemplate any of these options as she slept straight through the five o'clock whistle.

She was jolted awake by his loud bellow of her name and the bang of the door of her bedroom as he flung it open and practically pounced on her. She let out a grumpy moan and tried to push him away. "You're ok," he breathed.

"Of course I'm ok you lunatic, get off me," came her groggy protest.

"I came to get you at lunch and your co-worker's said two auror's came and you left with them early in the morning. I asked around and no one knew anything. And then you weren't there at the end of the day and I panicked that something happened to you. That you finally jumped the shark and tried to free the house elves or something on your own."

"I had a meeting and then I wasn't feeling well and I came home," she lied, not daring to look him in the eye. She was positive that by now, he'd be able to tell if she were telling a lie or not.

"Without as much as an inter-office memo to me? No one in your department knew where you were." He glared at her for a moment. "You're lying, aren't you? Where were you out all day?"

"Ron, really, I just don't feel well." She closed her eyes and tried to hide her face in her pillow.

"Well then I'll get my mum, she's real good with maladies. She'll have you feeling better in an instant." He got up off the bed and barely took a step to the door when Hermione made a quick grab for him.

"No!" she practically screamed. Dragging his mother into this would only make matters worse. When he raised an eyebrow, she softened. "I'm fine, I just need some rest. Why don't you lay with me for a while?" She figured that maybe being flirty would distract him until he forgot she went missing for the day. He laid beside her, his arms going around her tightly.

"If you went away with two aurors all day, you have to tell me. If you're in trouble…"

"I'm not in trouble," she cut him off. She didn't want him to think that. She didn't want him to worry.

"You know I'll find out eventually," he told her. She was sure he would, but it wouldn't be tonight. She briefly contemplated his reaction if he really did find out from someone else what she'd done today. There were only four people who knew where she was today. Kingsley would never tell Ron, the two aurors who escorted her were magically sworn to secrecy, and, well, Draco had no one but the dementors to blab to.

"Not tonight," she murmured.

As much as he tried for the rest of the night to get information out of her, it was useless. She'd fought with him for a while until he stormed from the room. She heard him in the kitchen as he fixed dinner, even bringing some in as a peace offering, but she refused. He tried to make up for his outburst, but she began to give him the silent treatment. Inside, she felt horrible for making him feel bad for suspecting she was sneaking around when she really was. When the truth came out, and she knew it would, it would blow up in her face. She was beginning to think that any positive outcome of her plan would be overshadowed by her deceptive manner. Maybe she had made the wrong choice. Maybe she had done the wrong thing. Maybe this would finally push Ron away for good. Maybe Draco was winning after all.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading everyone! Here's a small glimpse at Hermione's experience. I promise all will be revealed by the 21st chapter. Keep reading and reviewing-it's how I know people are interested!  
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**Chapter 17**

_May 2000_

The tension between Ron and Hermione in the days to come could be cut like a knife. Both of their tempers would flare at the drop of a hat and it was often while the other was feeling apologetic and seeking pity for their behavior. Hermione compared her emotions to a roller coaster her dad had taken her on while on a summer holiday. She usually disliked any activity that required jostling of the body, especially flying of any sort, but that rickety muggle ride had made her sicker than any broom or threshal ever could. Sick was exactly how she felt about keeping this secret from Ron, but she was finding it hard to confess. She unfortunately acted on the sick feeling from time to time, becoming physically ill at the thought of what she'd done.

"He thinks you're pregnant," Ginny told her over tea one weekend. Ginny was in town for a brief stint while the Harpies had a few weeks off, and the girls were catching up. It had been a while since the two gotten together for some girl time, it wasn't really Ginny's idea of a good time, but Hermione had insisted.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Pregnant?" she squeaked. "No!"

Ginny laughed at her reaction. The possibility of Hermione being pregnant had been a millisecond of rant that her brother had gone off on in the past few days. Finding it to be the height of hilarity, Ginny chose that specific point to pick on both of them with. "Well then, something is up!" Ginny said after calming down some. "Whether you remember it or not, you've never fought with him to this degree. Sure, you've always bickered, there was that brief point of the silent treatment. Ok, there were several stints of the silent treatment, but it's never been this bad and Harry agrees."

"You and Harry have been discussing my relationship with your brother?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow. The thought alone annoyed her.

"Well when we both are hearing it from the two of you, it kind of becomes the topic of general conversation." A blush crept over Hermione's cheeks and she looked away, out of the shop window of the café they were sitting in. Ginny leant forward on her elbows, studying her closest girl friend carefully. "What's going on?" she tried, changing her tone, softening it. Ginny was looking at Hermione's eyes which were beginning to brim with tears. "You can tell me."

Hermione shook her head and wiped at a tear that had made it down onto her face. "I did something," Hermione started to confess. "Something that I thought would help us and I can't figure out how to tell him. He'll be furious."

"Hermione, Ron's never loved anyone more than he loves you. He loves you more than anything. There's nothing you can do or could have done that would push him away. Not when you've forgiven him for so many of his shortcomings."

Hermione shook her head. "It involves Draco," she confessed again, unable to meet her friend's eyes though she could sense Ginny stiffen from across the table. It was now or never, Hermione had to finish telling her tale. "I went to Azkaban to meet with him."

Ginny's gasp was quite audible as she sat up straight and brought a hand up to her mouth. She was silent for a moment before the questions came tumbling out. "You went? How? When? By yourself? I thought no one…"

"I set it up with Kingsley," Hermione answered. She took a deep breath, folding her hands on the table in front of her and moving her stare to the whites of her knuckles. "Two aurors who are sworn to secrecy escorted me there one morning a few weeks ago."

The journey there was grueling but Hermione made it to Azkaban unscathed. She'd read up on the prison pretty much since she learned she was a witch, but the books she'd engrossed herself in were nothing compared to the real thing. To start, the place was freezing. Not just pull your coat tighter around you freezing, but an unsettling, bone chilling, even my thoughts are cold freezing. It was made of stone and no other materials and since it was in the middle of the ocean, water got in everywhere. The water combined with the arctic aura of the dementors caused ice to form all over the place. Hermione had had to cast a non-slip charm to her shoes upon entering so she wouldn't fall.

The dementors had no problem gliding over the floors as they led her to Draco's cell. Hermione gripped her wand the entire time, trying not to flinch as various prisoners screamed out in agony. She knew so many of the prison's inhabitants, had even helped to put many of them in there after the war. Facts stated that there was no way any of them could get out should they recognize her as she passed, but it frightened her nonetheless. She wasn't allowed to cast her patronus until she was in the cell with Draco as the dementors couldn't be too close to it and they were needed to lead the way down the icy hallow halls.

The dementors stopped after a while of guidance down a passage and Hermione could feel her heart racing. They opened the door and she stepped inside, holding her breath.

Draco had been surprised to see her and still held that taunting smirk that she had loathed ever since they met. He was being difficult and uncooperative and for a while, Hermione feared that she wouldn't be able to go through with her plan. As soon as she stepped into the cell, she wanted to turn around and leave and pretend the visit had never happened. When Draco teased her about the curse he had hit her with, her bravery shone through.

Hermione rushed through the rest of the story, skimping on the details but giving enough information to get the point across. Their theories were right and Draco was holding on.

"You have to tell Ron," Ginny told her seriously.

"I can't," Hermione practically whined, which was very unlike her.

"Well he'll find out. You know I won't be able to keep my mouth shut, I'll tell Harry, and Harry will tell Ron, and Ron will be furious that you didn't tell him yourself."

"You can't tell Harry," Hermione protested. "Please."

"Hermione, you know these things just slip from my mouth sometimes! Especially when I haven't seen Harry in a while because I've been away. I can't promise I won't tell. Not when it's this big."

Hermione was backed against a wall. She spilt her secret and it was being threatened to spill even more now. She knew Ginny wouldn't do it on purpose, she wasn't cruel, but it seemed that as of late she was generally so excited to see her boyfriend that she spilt every bit of news she had. And this was certainly big news.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long! Been a busy bee! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!  
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**Chapter 18**

_June 2000_

As the weather grew warmer, Molly and Arthur Weasley decided it would be nice to gather everyone together at the Burrow. Just last month it had been two years since the final war. Two years since they lost so many people they loved and considered family. Two years since they DID lose a major part of their family. They needed a reminder of the happiness in their lives.

Hermione and Ron had enjoyed an easy morning together, Ron having stayed over the night before. As time passed, the questioning lessened, the embraces increased, and the happiness flourished. Hermione had convinced herself that no one, other than Ginny, ever had to know about her little trip to Azkaban. If Ginny had told Harry, he had made an extreme effort not to let Hermione or anyone else know that he knew. Hermione gazed at her two friends now who hadn't left each other's side since their arrival at the Burrow. It warmed her heart that they were so strongly together now. Lately, Hermione's mind had been drifting back to the difficult times in her life, trying to force or will herself to remember what really happened, not the twisted memory that Draco's spell had planted in her brain. Ginny caught her gaze and smiled, breaking away from Harry to come over to her. Hermione immediately noticed the huge smile of Ginny's face. Not that Ginny was a sad person, but she was positively glowing at the moment and it was noticeable.

"We have an announcement," Ginny gushed in a whisper. "Harry's going to tell everyone after supper."

Hermione looked at her friend who sat in giddy happiness beside her. "What, are you pregnant?" Hermione joked as Ginny had joked weeks before.

"What?" Ginny gasped. "No!"

"Relax," Hermione laughed. "Just joking. So what's the news?"

"You have to wait, just like everyone else," Ginny said matter-of-factly.

Hermione gave Ginny a blank look as she was one hundred percent un-amused with the tease of some extremely good news. Ginny grinned brightly, said "it'll be worth the wait!" and hurried back to Harry before Hermione could start with her inquisition.

The day passed nicely. Hermione watched the lot throw together an impromptu game of quidditch, played with Teddy who was visiting for the special occasion, and even chatted with Fleur who had nothing but baby stories to tell about her and Bill's now one-year-old daughter.

Dinner was had outside as the sun set. Molly had set up lanterns around the yard that lit themselves as the natural light dimmed. Hermione hadn't been this content in a long time. She found herself reaching for Ron's hand under the table as they sat beside each other and rest her head on his shoulder as Harry stood from his spot, clearing his throat.

"Well, Ginny and I thought tonight would be as best a time as any to announce that…" He looked at Ginny who was seated beside him, beaming. "Well we're engaged to be married." The smile on both Harry's and Ginny's faces couldn't have been wider as they looked to Ginny's parent's for their reaction.

Arthur's eyebrow was raised while Molly's expression was drooped. It was definitely not what the couple was expecting. "Well?" Ginny asked. "Nothing to say? Mum? Dad?"

"You're just teenagers," Arthur finally said. It was common knowledge that the Weasley's loved Harry like a son already and that they approved very much of his and Ginny's relationship, but it was true, they were quite young.

Harry lowered himself back into his seat, lowering his gaze like a child that had been scolded.

"Is there a particular reason why you'd want to do this now?" Molly asked gently. She was asking seriously what Hermione had joked about a few hours earlier in the day.

Her question threw Ginny off the handle. "You think I'm pregnant?" she shrieked, standing up. "You think we're really that irresponsible?" Harry called her name gently, trying to calm her down before everyone started to explode. Fluer took this cue to remove Teddy and the baby from the table, bringing Bill with her into the house. George sat back in his seat, an amused smile on his face while Hermione and Ron didn't move a muscle.

"You're just so young," Molly quipped. "What's the rush?"

"There's no rush," Harry spoke up. "It's just, we're in love and with the past few years we feel like why wait?"

"If this were Ron and Hermione you wouldn't be acting like this, you'd be instantly happy."

"That's different," Molly answered. Hermione sat up a bit straighter at the uncomfortable mention of her name. She and Ron were nowhere near being engaged, they had only been dating for… Her thoughts trailed off. In actuality they had been together practically since they were eleven. They would have been an unofficial couple for two years now had the accident not happened and what would have been their actual two year anniversary was approaching in just a few months.

"How is it any different? Harry and I've been dating longer than they have! You just hold her so much higher than me," Ginny went off.

"That's not true," Arthur tried to calm her, glancing at Hermione who had blushed considerably. Ron squeezed her hand.

"You do so, especially since the accident," Ginny continued to yell, there was no stopping her now, though Harry was trying by pulling on her hand to get her to sit back down. "You think she's so great, like she could do nothing wrong. If it was them announcing their engagement, you'd send fireworks into the sky! Well she's NOT perfect!" Hermione's eyes widened when she realized what was going to come out of Ginny's mouth next. "She's just a big liar! For months now she's been lying to everyone!"

"Ginny, please," Hermione pleaded, though she couldn't muster her voice much louder than a whisper. She knew it was coming and felt frozen in her spot to keep it from being said.

"She told Ron she had some stupid house elf meeting when she was really going to Azkaban to see Draco Malfoy!"

The words hung thickly in the air. Hermione could see the shock of the confession on Ginny's face the moment the words had left her mouth. Hermione lowered her gaze to her lap, silently confirming that Ginny's outburst was true. She felt Ron's hand slip from her own, felt the eyes on her. She closed her own eyes and reached for the locket around her neck as she felt Ron silently get up from the table and heard his feet pad across the grass. She heard George call his name as he followed his younger brother into the house. Her worst fear was coming true.

An arm around her neck and a struggle. A brilliant flash of light, brighter than she'd ever seen. A scream that was definitely her own. But no darkness this time. Just the smell of fresh parchment and spearmint toothpaste.

Her eyes snapped open as a fuzzy feeling overcame her. Everyone was staring at her, but she didn't care. She swayed slightly before making herself get up and practically staggering inside after Ron, despite the calls from everyone outside.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, I've been quite busy in the real world. This is the longest chapter yet and lots gets revealed, so I hope it was worth the wait! Enjoy! Just 2 left after this! Once again, thank you everyone for reading and reviewing!  
><strong>

**Chapter 19**

_June 2000_

Hermione stumbled into the kitchen of The Burrow, her eyes darting around for Ron. She needed to tell him what just happened and what she remembered. She needed to explain why she had gone to Azkaban without telling him, why she kept it from him, and how important the trip had been. He couldn't be mad at her. He just couldn't. Ginny had said he wouldn't be.

Ron paced in the sitting room which was visible from where Hermione stopped in her tracks in the kitchen next to the large table that housed the Weasley family at meal times. George was sitting on the couch, trying to calm his little brother down with consoling words. Ron looked over at the door when he heard it open and close, his face screwing up in anger again upon seeing her. "What?" he started at her, causing George to jump up and grab his arm. "You've come to explain yourself? As if you can?" he spat angrily at her. His tone reminded her of the memory that just returned to her, of the crude words he'd spoken before abandoning she and Harry in the forest while they were on the run and tracking down Horcruxes.

"Ron," her voice cracked and every memory of her ever crying over him rushed back to her. The number of times would have surprised her had a sudden wave of dizziness not poured over her. It made her so faint she had to grab onto the table to sturdy herself. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, hearing footsteps from Ron's direction. When she opened them again, hoping to see Ron coming closer, she saw that it had been George instead, perhaps to help since she probably looked dreadful, but Ron had put his arm out to stop him.

"Trying the sympathy card? Gonna tell me you remember something again and think it'll all be better? All be ok that you lied to me? Lied straight to my face? You made me feel guilty for thinking you'd done something when you really did!" he spat again, his anger getting the best of him as it often did. Hermione tried to remind herself that he often overreacted as such in times like these, but was finding it hard to focus on rationale when she felt so ill.

Her head felt like it weighed more than three times the rest of her body. She swayed slightly as things she couldn't remember moments before ran back at her like a full force quaffle.

"How could you do something so stupid?" he kept going as her head kept swimming. "Something so dangerous? You're supposed to be the responsible one!" And she was, the majority of the time. It was usually she who'd rant and rave about rules and procedure and ethical thinking. She was the voice of reason, the planner.

He was coming closer to her as he rambled on loudly and memories kept rushing back at her, hitting her one after another like a hoard of hippogriffs. She focused her eyes on his face and watched it transform as she remembered every time their eyes had locked in the past. The images she was seeing were blurring so rapidly that it made her woozy. She could hear Ron yelling at her still as her eyes uncontrollably slipped closed and everything sort of flickered.

Blackness and then arms around her waist. Nothingness and then the strong smell of a familiar shampoo. An empty void and then the sensation of apparating. Silent stillness and then his voice in her ear, frantic.

When she was finally able to open her eyes again, he was hovering over her. His eyes came into focus first, then the rest of his features. She felt his hand on her cheek and she nuzzled against it. "Ron," she murmured.

"You're ok," his voice cracked.

She nodded gently. "Always the tone of surprise," she murmured, a smirk growing on her lips as she looked up at him.

He smirked back. "You fainted and I panicked and apparated us."

"Easy to be mad when I'm conscious, hmm?" she tried to joke with him. "I'll remember to faint more often."

He frowned. "You have a lot of explaining to do, still."

She closed her eyes for another moment and took in a deep breath before sitting up. It was now or never. "When you met me in Hogsmeade the first weekend trip after I went back to Hogwarts you grabbed me and kissed me and said you'd do anything to be with me forever." Ron nodded gently, a bit shocked that she remembered, he hadn't told her that entire story. "Well I'd do anything to be with you forever, too. So when I put the pieces together, I knew you'd think my idea was crazy and risky and dangerous. I knew you wouldn't want me to go through with it.

"But it all made perfect sense. Those memories that would come back to me happened when Draco underwent a brutal dementor attack. When they weren't coming fast enough I suspected that for whatever reason, Draco was getting special treatment in Azkaban. So I went to Kingsley and he confirmed my suspicion. He said the specialists and healers on my case suggested that the longer Draco was around, the more likely they'd be able to find a cure. Like they needed him to give it to them. But by the time I formed my own ideas on how to counter Draco's curse, they hadn't been working on my case for months. They'd forgotten about me. They gave up, but I wasn't about to.

"I needed to see Draco for myself, to really see what state he was in. At the same time, I wanted answers. We never really understood why he did what he did. We saved his life in the end, I thought it was over. He was always bitter and pompous growing up, we knew that, and even after the war he remained that way. He hated us, Ron, that never went away."

Hermione closed her eyes again, transporting herself back to her meeting with Draco so she could explain it to Ron in detail.

"Oblivi Kedavra," Draco had spoken the words clearly. Hermione had panicked and sent her patronus at him, knocking him over. Draco had begun to laugh at her attempt to disarm him, though it wasn't really disarming since he had no wand. He'd threatened her with a couple of words. As the silvery otter swam back to Hermione and circled her, Draco sat up again.

"Why did you do it?" Hermione asked, trying her best to hold her voice steady and confident.

"Why not?" Draco sneered back at her.

"Because we saved your life. More than once we saved your life. Because deep down you weren't a brave deatheater, you were a scared little boy who needed our help and we helped you."

"You bought the scared little boy act? I kept myself alive, Granger, I never needed your help." Hermione was shocked that he actually believed this, that he thought he'd still be here if it weren't for them. "Ever since you showed your little mudblood face at Hogwarts and befriended Potter and that blood traitor Weasley, I've hated you all. All the fame you three received after you destroyed the Dark Lord make me sick to my stomach," he continued and despite his discombobulated appearance, his tone was laced with hatred. Hermione tried to hold herself together, but was finding it hard, she wished he'd just hurry and spit out the rest of his story.

"I guess I do have something to thank you for. Because of you, Weasley, and Potter, I wasn't immediately shipped off to Azkaban. I was allowed my freedom to plot my own revenge. So I got my hands on a few dark arts spell books that weren't destroyed after the war. The name Malfoy still held some power after all. I studied up, practiced on a few poor foolish muggles, and plotted what would be the most glorious night of my life." Draco rubbed his hands together, silently savoring in the glory of his scheming. "It was quite simple, really. Making an unauthorized portkey is rather simple, the trick was having your touch alone trigger it. Planting it in that retched house wasn't that hard, either, given that it's no secret you lot took up there." Draco's expression darkened as he silenced himself. Hermione knew what came next, a glitch in his plan. "I knew the spell would work. I'd apparate with you, leave you in a place you'd be found, and then watch your nightmare unfold. You'd be brought back home, having no idea who your precious Ronald or Harry were. If I got the spell just right, you'd even forgot your own parents. Then I'd claim you as my own, lure you in and keep you like a house elf of sorts. I'd enjoy every minute of Weasley's misery." Hermione was shocked by his last statement. His final goal was to claim her as his own? To make her a slave? To make her forget everyone completely and make her believe it was him that she was meant to be with? All so he could savor in everyone else's despair.

Hermione felt physically ill, she wanted to vomit at this news, but she knew she had to say her piece for her plan to really come full circle. "Well your plan didn't work," she started and he practically snorted before she could finish her sentence.

"Of course not," he scoffed. "Weasley had to come along with you when you grabbed the portkey which just made everyone notice you were missing. I had to be hasty with the spell which means it wasn't as strong as it could have been." He smirked and looked her right in the eye which sent a chill through her body. "But it still worked, didn't it?"

"Not quite," she smiled and her patronus swam in a happy circle around her. Draco's face immediately fell. Hermione reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the remembrall that she brought everywhere with her. "Every day this gets a little clearer. Every week I remember something you made me forget. The longer you're here, the more I remember, and you're never going to leave this place. You'll keep suffering and I'll keep remembering. Ron and I are still together, Draco. You never understood true friendship or love and the lengths that people would go through to protect it. You're more like Voldemort than you think." She put the remembrall away and the fuzzy feeling at the back of her head meant she was already having an effect on Draco. "You're going to lose again, Draco. You'll always lose this battle."

Hermione extinguished her patronus, the signal that the dementor's could come back to let her out of the cell. She left Draco on the cold, hard floor, his jaw dropped in what she could only assume was shock. As she was lead out, she could hear his scream echoing the halls. The dementor's started in on him right away.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading and the kind reviews! This chapter is a bit short but.. the last chapter makes it worth it, I hope! Enjoy!  
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**Chapter 20**

_June 2000_

"That's completely mental," Ron spoke when Hermione had finished her tale of her visit with Draco.

"Exactly. Look, I don't want to get into any more details of Azkaban. It's a horrible place and I know it was a dangerous plan, but what's done is done. It's happened. Is it really worth being mad when my plan worked?"

"Well of course I'm going to be mad!" Ron began to raise his voice until her words really settled in. "Wait, it worked? You remember? Everything?"

She nodded slowly. "Pretty much," she said softly.

"Like the time with the DA when we dueled?" Hermione gave a laugh and nodded. "And all the times you did my homework for me?" Hermione rolled her eyes and nodded again. "And that time you sleepwalked naked down to the common room?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "That never happened!" she practically shrieked. She slapped Ron's arm hard when he started to laugh.

"Ouch! Hey! I had to test you!" Feeling embarrassed, Hermione shoved him and he lost balance and fell over but not before grabbing Hermione's arm so she fell with him. She landed on his chest, the two of them laughing, all signs of anger erased from Ron's expression. She reached up and brushed a bit of his ginger locks from his eyes. The fact that she could remember how his looks changed as he grew into adulthood made her feel full and complete. Without hesitating she leaned down and kissed his lips. It was simple, sweet, a mere lip to lip kiss, yet she felt the shock of electricity rush through her.

"Feels just like the first time," she murmured and was about to lean in for another when a faint pop echoed in the room. Crookshanks hissed from his perch on the couch and both Ron and Hermione's heads darted toward the sound.

"One minute you want to hex each other and the next you're about to shag? Blimey!" came Harry's annoyed voice before he turned the spot and disapparated, no doubt to report back to the Burrow that he had found them.

Ron could do nothing but laugh as he started to sit up, Hermione moving with him as a blush crept over her cheeks. Another pop sounded, this time announcing the arrival of Ginny who had Hermione's coat and purse in her hands. "Really?" she said with the same annoyed tone as Harry. She tossed Hermione's things onto the couch, making Crookshanks jump and hiss again. "Oh shut it, cat," she murmured before turning to her brother and Hermione who had gotten up from the floor. "Per our lovely mother, you have five minutes to get your arses back to the Burrow to explain yourselves," Ginny reported. "She's tiffed as it is, please don't make it worse by not showing up," she sighed. It was obvious that Ginny was still upset that her parent's had not approved of her engagement to Harry.

Hermione stepped forward before Ginny could disapparate, reaching out for her friend to pull her into an embrace. "They'll come around," Hermione whispered. "And I can't wait to be a bridesmaid." Hermione pulled back and saw a smile crack on Ginny's face.

"Thanks for not hating me," Ginny murmured, eyeing Ron over Hermione's shoulder. "I told you he couldn't be mad at you."

Hermione just laughed softly and shook her head. "Go on back home and we'll meet you there," she said softly, taking a step back towards Ron. Ginny nodded and turned on the spot, sending herself back to the Burrow.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak when she remembered an object she cherished that was in her coat pocket. She turned away from Ron and went to the couch to retrieve it, reaching into the pocket and pulling out a small glass orb, holding it in her fingertips as she brought it up to her eye level. She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips. "Who knew these things really worked?" she asked, prompting Ron to come over beside her. He looked at the remembrall in her hand, the one he had given her just after her accident, the one that had once blazed deep red, now filled with a dull pink smoke.

"I knew," he told her, reaching for her free hand. "I knew it would work and that you'd remember eventually." He'd invested too much time, energy, and love in her, in this one person, to merely give up completely. If he'd learned anything from being her and Harry's friend, it was to never give up. Everyone had a mission in life, a calling, a prophecy. Ron was pretty sure that if he searched the racks in the department of mysteries, he'd find a glowing crystal ball with his and Hermione's name on it. His life goal might not be as heroic or exciting as Harry's, but it was his and he was going to fulfill it, even if a few curses got in his way. "We should go before my mum's head explodes," he told her, reaching for her free hand. She nodded and gave his hand a squeeze before they disapparated together, arriving with a pop in the garden of the Burrow.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: About to leave for vacation and remembered I never posted the last chapter! Never fear, here it is! Again, thank you to everyone who has read this story and reviewed it. If you haven't left a review yet, this is the end! Please let me know what you thought, give suggestions, anything. I love hearing from everyone.**

**Also, please note the date on the chapter. Enjoy!  
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**Chapter 21**

_September 2001_

Hermione pulled a pile of parchment from the desk in her den. She cursed herself for not taking better care of the Daily Prophet and Quibbler scraps she had kept, marking important events in her life. Several of them had jagged ripped edges and folded corners. She heard the shower turn on from the bathroom in the master bedroom and decided she had some time to sift through them as Ron showered before she had to get ready to leave.

Today was a big day. Today the Boy Who Lived would marry the youngest member of the Holyhead Harpies in history. After over a year of being engaged, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were finally going to be married. Hermione could recall her mother swooning over the royal wedding of Charles and Diana in the muggle world and it was easy for Hermione to compare this wedding to that one. Since the end of the war, Harry had been an even bigger star then he was growing up, and much more accessible. People fell over themselves to get a look at him wherever he went, often stopping him to ask for autographs and photos. He had turned into a bit of a Gilderoy Lockhart now that Hermione thought about it, only not as vain. Thinking it would be easier to appease the masses than shut them out completely, Harry and Ginny had agreed that the wedding ceremony itself could take place on a public stage. "Just for show," Harry had told everyone. "The Minister thinks there might actually be riots if they can't be involved." This, of course, led to extreme teasing by Harry's closest friends. Even Hermione had had a comment or two over the course of the year.

The formal ceremony, in which Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasley crew would be part of, was going to take place in the very center of the HolyHead Harpies quidditch stadium. Since TVs didn't exist in the magical world to broadcast the wedding, it was concluded that this was the best option. When Harry and Ginny had broken the news of the event's location, they received almost as bad of a reaction as when they announced their engagement. Mrs. Weasley had thrown a fit, insisting that the ceremony be a private affair. After much pleading, consoling, and promising that the reception could be held at the Burrow with just close friends and family, Molly conceded and the planning began.

Hermione picked up the top piece of parchment, smiling back at the beaming faces of Harry and Ginny's engagement photo that had made the cover of both the Daily Prophet and The Quibbler. It was hard to believe that they had gotten engaged over a year ago when the events of that day would forever be fresh in Hermione's mind.

She closed her eyes as she remembered that day. Harry and Ginny had announced their engagement over dinner with the entire Weasley family at the Burrow. Thinking they were much too young, Harry was nineteen and Ginny a mere eighteen, both Arthur and Molly Weasley hadn't been too pleased. In her anger at her parents, Ginny had let it slip that Hermione had recently taken a visit to Azkaban to see Draco Malfoy, a secret the friends had shared a few weeks prior. Ron had practically imploded with the news, becoming enraged and being forced to leave the group before he said or did something he would regret. In her effort to go after him and explain herself, Hermione had been struck with another familiar fuzzy feeling in her head and was suddenly filled with every memory she had forgotten about Ron. The rush of knowledge was too much to bear and just as Hermione was about to faint, Ron had grabbed her and apparated them to her flat. Once it was established that she was ok, Ron learned that Hermione's plan had worked and that she remembered everything Draco's curse had made her forget. Shortly after Harry had found where they had disappeared to, they returned to the Burrow and shared the news with the rest of the family. It had been the distraction that Ginny and Harry had needed and a reminder that life was too short to take things slow just for the sake of taking things slow.

Hermione set the parchment aside and picked up the next, frowning at the sight of the mugshot of Draco Malfoy. The article was dated a few days after the evening that her memory came back, announcing that the infamous wizard had died in his cell in Azkaban. Hermione had been right all along, Draco's passing would break the magical hold he had on her. She had guessed that it had finally happened, but seeing it in writing had confirmed it. Despite her joy at having her memory back, she was still saddened by Draco's death, which was a hard emotion to explain to anyone who found her weepy in the days following the news. She wasn't gloomy that he was dead, she was sad that he had to die in the end, sad that he had brought this upon himself, sad that, in essence, the war had claimed another life. Hermione never took death lightly, especially after seeing innocent bystanders and friends perish before her eyes. Part of her even felt like Voldemort himself needn't had to die. If only his childhood had been different, she thought, she probably wouldn't be sitting where she was today, maybe she'd never even been born with magical powers. Perhaps everything happened for a reason.

Not wanting to think of such a sad memory on this day, she went to the next piece of parchment. There on page four, much smaller than Harry and Ginny's, was her own engagement photo. Hermione ran her finger over the smiling face of Ron, laughing slightly as the people in the photo looked adoringly at each other. Last December, Ron had finally proposed. They were visiting her parent's new home, a sprawling ranch on a few acres of land in the countryside. Ron had suggested taking a walk around the property and they did so hand in hand. They were a good distance from the house when it began to snow and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started to recall every memory with her that had truly been a life changing moment for him. "And that was when I really fell in love with you," he had said, turning to face her, taking both of her mittened hands into his. "It's what kept me fighting. What will keep me fighting until the end of time. We're both realistic, we know there will be rough times ahead, but I honestly can't imagine going on without you, Hermione. You're the only one I want to fight with and make up with. Wake up to and start a family with. Hold you in my arms when you cry and laugh alongside you whenever necessary."

Hermione remembered exactly how he looked in that moment, so much more like a man of twenty-one-years-old and less like the boy she had grown up with. Different yet the same and she still loved him with everything she was. His piercing blue eyes were filled with nervousness and she had a feeling she knew what was coming next. When he let go of one of her hands to reach into his coat pocket, pulling out a small black jewelry box and flipped it open to reveal a simple yet elegant pear shaped diamond ring, her suspicions were confirmed. "Oh Ron," she had gasped as he lowered himself down onto one knee, the newly falling snow sticking to his bright red hair.

His proposal was sweet and plain, but she loved it and would cherish that moment for the rest of her life. "Hermione Jean Granger," he had started, his voice cracking slightly. It was rare that Ron became emotional like this, but when it came to her and how he felt about her, all bets were off. His emotions triggered her own and her eyes filled with happy tears. "Will you do me the greatest honor any man, muggle or wizard, can have by becoming my wife?" Finding that she couldn't really speak, she squeaked out a yes as she nodded fervently. He pulled her mitten off to slip the ring onto her finger and then stood to kiss her and as he did, just like every kiss she received from him since Draco's spell had been broken, she was overwhelmed by the smell of new parchment, freshly cut grass, Ron's shampoo, and something new-clean crisp snow.

Hermione could smell Ron's shampoo now as the shower stopped and the door to the bathroom was opened, the smells of his shower drifting into the flat. With a happy sigh, Hermione sifted through a few more pieces of newspaper, fingering the locket around her neck as she did so. A few headlines announced the birth of new Weasley children, George's engagement, Harry's promotion at work, and Arthur Weasley's retirement.

"What are you doing? We're going to be late and my mum will have our heads," came Ron's voice from the doorway of the den. When Hermione looked up she saw him in nothing but his underwear, towel drying his hair which clung to his forehead. She raised an eyebrow, gathered the newspaper clippings, and stood.

"Just packing a few things," she sing-songed, placing the pieces of parchment into one of the many boxes that filled the room, much like the rest of the flat.

"Packing can wait. We have plenty of time before we move," Ron reprimanded her, but she wasn't really listening. She practically floated to him, kissing his lips squarely.

"I love you," she told him, smiling and keeping eye contact until he smiled back and repeated the words.

"I love you too, but we have a wedding to get to, remember?" he asked her, stepping aside so she could pass him and head into the bedroom where her bridesmaid dress was being magically held in the air near her dresser so it wouldn't wrinkle.

Hermione looked over her shoulder at her fiancé, noting his incredulous look. She winked at him before starting her own wedding preparations and spoke sweetly. "How could I forget?"


End file.
